


The Art of Not Thinking

by LyricOcean



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bad decisions were made in writing this, F/F, Gay, No Storm in Arcadia Bay, Save the planet, Sometimes things happen that are kind of fucked up, Started off as a slow burn then I got bored, Things are getting very gay very fast, an attempt at comedy, would qualify as a mystery if I had more talent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 12:13:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8055880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricOcean/pseuds/LyricOcean
Summary: Blackwell decides to save the planet, but sometimes you need to start small.After a drunken night partying, Victoria and Max wake up to find posters all over Blackwell proclaiming the two to be in a relationship. Hilarity ensues as different forces work for and against their so-called relationship, and as Max and Victoria struggle to figure each other out. But is that all that's going on at Blackwell, or is something deeper happening? (spoiler alert: totally something deeper happening, just read it dude)





	1. Save the Water, Drink Beer

“What do we want?” Dana screamed into the megaphone, one fist in the air and her legs firmly planted, a power stance. She was up on a makeshift stage, standing alone, wearing a green singlet with cutesy polar bears on it and the words ‘What About Us?’ printed above. The light caught her hair, which was untied, making it gleam. Around her the summer day was beautiful, a vibrant colour palette of vivid greens and earthy browns. She looked young, strong, independant. Like she could change the world with the power of her conviction. The rest of the crowd thought so too. 

“Climate action!” They screamed back, Max among them. As Max chanted, she also snapped a few pictures, making sure to capture several of Dana. Mentally, she was yelling in excitement -- these photos were going to turn out beautifully, and she just knew this environmental rally would be a good place to base her project on. The rally captured the essence of youth so well, especially with Dana as its centrepiece. 

And of course Dana would be the one to organise this protest, Max thought, affectionately. Blackwell had been like this for maybe a week or so. This whole spark in environmental awareness was originally triggered by some rich old bastard, surprisingly not connected to the Prescotts. He was in the news because he was trying to arrange for an oil rig to be built somewhere in the ocean near Arcadia Bay. 

When Dana heard about this, it was basically all over for the poor guy -- it seemed like overnight to Max that Blackwell had been transformed into some kind of Greenpeace outpost. There were people walking around in shirts advertising slogans for saving the planet; educational posters put up about fossil fuels; mass emails being sent out asking to sign the official petition. It had amassed over two hundred signatures so far, and as far as Max knew, was still going strong. She was the forty-seventh signature. 

“Mad Max! Fancy seeing you here!” Max turned around, and came face to face with Warren. He wore a ‘Save Our Planet, We Only Have One’ shirt and a shit-eating grin. His chest was moving as he breathed in a slight pant, like he’d just been running.

“Hey Warren,” Max smiled, slightly awkwardly. The boy in front of her smelled of sweat, and more than slightly of desperation. 

“Hey, uh, are you staying for the overnight protest?” Warren asked, and Max could hear the hope in his tone. He ran a hand through his hair, curly brown locks momentarily closing around his fingers. “If you are, I’ve got a space in my tent.”

Shit. In the excitement of trying to photograph the whole event, Max had forgotten about the planned group campout that was happening tonight. They were all going to set up a couple of tents, give a few speeches, roast some marshmallows, and generally, from what Max could detect, use the whole event as an excuse to hang out and get wasted. She hadn’t been planning on going, especially since Kate was going to be staying in too. How could getting wasted help save the planet?

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Max replied, a little relieved that she didn’t have to lie. “I wasn’t really planning on going.” She watched as the expression on Warren’s face turned into one of rejection. Ouch. I'm sorry, Warren. “I mean, I could go, I think I have a tent somewhere, but… I guess I just don’t see the point. The Vortex Club is just going to hijack it as usual.” Jesus, way to make it worse, Caulfield. 

“Yeah, that's okay then,” Warren mumbled, brown eyes downcast and shoulders slightly slumped. “If you change your mind, you have my number, I guess.”

“I do. Sorry, Warren.” Max watched as he faded off into the crowd. She felt bad about turning him down, but at the same time knew she had to. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on.   
She got the absurd desire to snap a photo of him as he left, a hunched and almost lifeless figure in the middle of all the livelihood, but refrained. That wouldn't be fair either.

 

Max wandered around the front of her school, snapping the occasional picture and generally losing herself in the crowd. A few local businesses had obviously seised on the opportunity, and stands selling things like hot dogs and ‘organic lemonade’ dotted the sides of the courtyard. Capitalism at its finest, Max thought, though she couldn't complain… those were some good hotdogs.  
Max also didn’t fail to notice the litter left behind too. Although there were bins around the school, they really weren’t designed to hold as much crap as what Blackwell was currently producing. Max took a few pictures of one as she walked past it, a stinking, carefully stacked trash fortress built up all around it long after it overflowed. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. At least the squirrels were happy.

As the day progressed into night, the population of Blackwell only seemed to wake up more. Dana finished her speech and was immediately followed by a few girls coming up and singing Michael Jackson’s Earth Song, who were followed by a few more passionate speakers, followed by Principal Wells condoning the event, thanking Sean Prescott for funding everything, and wishing everyone luck. 

After that it was mostly music, though at one memorable point an unusually emotional (and definitely wasted) Victoria Chase took the stage and proclaimed her love for penguins. “I just… like… they’re so small, fucking pan-pan-pan-ga-wins, uh... penguins, and it’s just… ummwhatthefuck… beautiful… thank you…” She was then escorted off the stage by an equally amused and pissed off looking Taylor, amid many boos and cheers. Victoria looked so sad when she was up there, her normally perfect blonde hair falling in her face and the way she held her arm with her hand, defensively, like a small child.   
Max wondered where Nathan was, but didn’t ponder it for long. 

The firework displays started going off at around ten o’clock. They sat on a hill and watched, many of them wrapped in light blankets fitting two or three people together. Max sat with Stella and Alyssa. It had started off as it mostly being Vortex Club members drinking -- of course they had a VIP 8-person tent set up stocked full of the stuff -- but as the night progressed on and visions became blurrier, everyone was apparently welcome. Max wasn’t sure how they got the fireworks, which were, as far as she could tell, illegal in Oregon. The Prescotts once again clearly spared no expense funding the event, and anyway, what stupid cop would try to stop it? 

“Are you enjoying this?” Stella asked at one point, suddenly. She didn’t make eye contact, just kept staring out at the fireworks, which reflected dully in her glasses. She had a way of throwing conversational scraps out into the wind, free to be answered by anyone who bothered to listen. Someone was playing a guitar in the background, a calm, diluted tune Max didn’t recognise but appreciated nonetheless. The night smelled of vanilla and gunpowder. It was a moment that seemed frozen in time, an eternal little snapshot in which, right then, everything was peaceful and damn near perfect. 

“Yeah, this is great,” Max smiled. “Thank God for oil rigs.”

Stella and Alyssa both laughed. “No,” Alyssa shook her head, “Thank God for Dana, I think.”

“That’s so true,” Max agreed. “She put crazy amounts of effort into this. We should write her a card or something.”

“Are you guys staying for the campout?” Stella asked again, irreverent to the conversation as always. She was smiling, though, so that was something. 

The guitar tune changed in the background to one Max recognised, a song from Syd Matters, and Max froze. Syd Matters always made her think of Chloe, which was sad. Hell, more than sad, damn-near devastating, come to think. Her and Rachel had left for Los Angeles a few weeks ago, and although there had been Skype calls and text conversations, it still really wasn’t the same.   
Max winced as a whole wave of emotions rolled over her. Was the wound really so raw? Chloe would have thought this whole save-the-planet rally was bullshit, probably. Or just used it as an opportunity to score free booze like everyone else. Though that was if she even would have bothered to come. Chloe and Rachel seemed absolutely inseparable, just like her and Max had been when they were younger. That really hurt. It was a deep, persistent ache that made Max want to bash her head against a wall. Sometimes she wished she could just go back in time and--

“Okay, everyone ignore me, that’s cool,” Stella snorted, unoffended. 

“Sorry, I got… lost in my head,” Max rubbed her face, hard. Maybe she did want a drink. “What did you say?”

“Campout. Are you staying for it? Do you want to?”

“Uh…” Shit. If she went back now she’d probably just spend the whole time moping about Chloe, who was the last person she wanted to be thinking about right now. There was an art to not thinking she hadn’t mastered yet. She really did need to work on that. She wanted to keep watching the fireworks, be engulfed in them, live forever in that moment on the hillside where, at least for a moment, everything was simple. Too bad that moment had been and gone. Her response was an impulse, blurted out without thinking. “Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Do you have a tent? Could I mooch a place?” Stella was looking directly at her now, hopeful.

“Yeah! It’s in my dorm, if you guys want to come get it with me.” Max stood up, and Stella stood too. 

“I’m staying in tonight, guys,” Alyssa told them mournfully. “I’ve got shit to contemplate.” 

“I know how you feel.” Max touched the other girl’s head, briefly. “Have a good night, Alyssa.”

As Max and Stella walked off, Alyssa mumbled “No, you really don’t know,” but both girls pretended not to hear. 

* * * *

Setting up the tent had been fun. Fumbled readings of instructions in Chinese, Max having to run back to her dorm because they forgot the rain-proof cover, someone lighting one of those coloured smoke bombs right next to the tent so it smelled of gunpowder. They joked that it had knocked a few solid minutes off their lifespans, though to be fair, it was probably true. 

Stella was normally a serious person, but as the night went on and she fed more into the party fever, things got more joking and downright ridiculous. Max could feel it too. At some point there was someone who kept saying “moist”, intentionally or not, Max didn’t know, but it created a monster. Whenever there was a gap in conversation, which Max and Stella drifted around from group to group with, someone would just yell “MOIST!” at the top of their lungs. At the time, Max thought it was just about the funniest thing in the world. 

Max was offered alcohol several times, and at first she said no, but eventually she gave in and had a few. Chloe traced around the edges of her thoughts from time to time, but as was the beautiful nature of parties, there was always something new that happened to keep her from thinking too much. Starting to feel sad? Look, Hayden just took a shot of vodka out of a shoe! What’s that, bad thoughts coming back? Nathan’s going around with a sharpie, giving ‘MOIST’ tramp stamps to anyone who asks (and several people who didn’t ask). 

Hey, there’s Nathan, Max suddenly registered. Where the hell was Victoria? She thought they were inseperab-- oh. Walking - or rather, stumbling - with Nathan was a tall redhead Max didn’t recognise, with long slender fingers and legs. She wore a short skirt and carried ridiculously high heeled shoes in one hand. Max deducted that the girl was probably Nathan’s girlfriend. Subtle body language hints such as the way Nathan kept sticking his hand up the back of her skirt and the way they kept making out tipped Max off. Also, Juliet told her. 

“ARE THEY DATING?” Max yelled, though she didn’t realise she was yelling. She’d had a lot to drink by this point. Everyone around her was yelling anyway, trying to talk over the techno music playing from the speaker in the VIP tent, or trying to talk over each other, or trying to just make as much noise as possible in general. Like noise control was gonna do shit.  
Three different people, the loudest of which was Juliet, shouted different variations of “YES!” in reply. Someone yelled “MOIST!” and everyone laughed again. 

That got Max thinking a bit though, in her disorientated, scrambled state. If Nathan had ditched Victoria for his new girlfriend, then that would explain Victoria’s early intoxication and the unusually raw penguin proclamation. Normally Victoria was carved from a piece of marble, flawless and cold, like a shop mannequin. Posed for the public eye. What was that quote from The Handmaid’s Tale? “My self is a thing one must compose, as one composes a speech. What I must present is a made thing, not something born.” That was how Max saw her. But now Nathan was gone, and the marble was beginning to crack.   
Max wondered where she was, without really caring about the answer. No, in a way she did. Victoria’s situation mirrored her own with Chloe perfectly. They had both been abandoned. 

Shit. Now she was thinking of Chloe again.

Max stood up and wandered away from the group, groaning a bit as her head spun. She didn’t have a watch, and it didn’t occur to her to check her phone, so she had no idea what time it was. Late. She wondered where Stella was, but correctly assumed she’d had enough of the partying and went to bed. To the tent or back to her dorm? Max had no idea. Her eyes felt like they weren’t properly connected to her head, like a nerve had short-circuited. Reality was blurred and jumpy. She could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, and suddenly realised that she needed to throw up very much. 

She fell onto her knees and heaved up on to the grass, not really sure where on campus she was, or really caring. At one point she thought maybe she’d spend the rest of her life on that one patch of grass, knuckles sliding into the slightly damp earth, eyes constantly re-directed back to two strands of grass which intersected and appeared conjoined but weren’t. There was some form of light source to her right. She kept thinking over and over, Oh god, this isn’t fun, but that didn’t really help. 

When she was sure it was all over, completely sure this time, she moved over a bit, flopped on her back, and thought of Chloe some more. She wasn’t entirely aware she was crying until a rude and slightly disjointed voice interrupted her. 

“You’re not crying, are you?” An exasperated sigh. “ And there I was thinking you couldn’t get any more pathetic.” 

Max squinted to see who was making fun of her. She looked to her right, to the light source, and saw a feminine figure sitting on some steps. Was that the front of the girls’ dorms? Who the hell was that?  
“Go away,” Max choked. All she could think of was Chloe and Rachel. What were they doing right now? She had no idea, and couldn’t really think either. Sleeping, maybe. Unaware of her existence. God, it was getting cold now.

“Looks like this is one of the rare moments where you don’t want to take a selfie, hm?” The voice was almost mournful, though there was no venom behind the words. It sounded like she wanted to talk but just didn’t have anything positive to say. Her speech was quite slow, determined to speak clearly. “You do look like shit right now, no offence.” 

Max focussed further, and saw the glint of blonde hair, golden bracelets, smeared makeup on a white, expensive looking sweater. Victoria Chase in her defeated form, Max realised.   
“How long were you war-uh… watching me?” Max managed barely, closing her eyes to talk. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering now. She’d stopped crying. 

“A while. I can’t sleep. Taylor forced me back to my room after my, uh… penguin announcement.” Max had never heard a voice as bitter as Victoria's currently was. “She made me drink water, have some cah… ugh…. crackers, shit like that. But she’s gone now, and apparently the only person who wants to talk to me is some wasted hipster. Who won’t even remember this conversation, thank god. Fuck.” Victoria buried her face in her hands but didn’t cry. Max could see her fingers moving gently, rubbing at her scalp, trying to offer comfort. She was shivering too. 

“Are you sad because… I forgot his name… uhh…”

“Nathan. Yes. Don’t talk to me about it.” The night was cold, but Victoria’s voice was colder. 

Max rolled over, slowly, on to her elbows, and then crawled towards the other girl. She managed to sit on the stairs next to her without falling, and then wrapped her arms around Victoria. It seemed like the right thing to do, especially in her alcohol-riddled mind. Victoria stiffened when Max touched her, but then slowly relaxed. 

“You better not remember any of this,” she muttered under her breath. Up close her hazel eyes were definitely slightly unfocused, and less sharp and judging than Max had ever seen them. 

“Your eyes are very pretty and I like them a lot,” Max told her, matter-of-factly. Victoria just stared at her after that, blankly. “I don’t even remem-em-ber five minutes ago,” Max slurred when she remembered what Victoria had said before, smiling a little even though she still felt really bad. Victoria laughed unexpectedly, an actual real-sounding laugh, unfiltered and unrestrained. It turned into tears about five seconds in, and suddenly she was shaking uncontrollably, head in her hands, fingernails digging hard into her scalp. Her breath kept hitching. “Fuck,” she kept muttering, "I really fucked up."

“No no no no,” Max tried to hug her tighter, but the way Victoria was shaking Max thought maybe the other girl would never stop. She was feeling slightly more alert from the utter strangeness of the situation, but she definitely wasn’t sober by any means. 

“Does everyone in this school hate me?” Victoria’s question came suddenly, muffled behind her hands and still wracked by sobs. It took Max a while to figure out what she’d asked.

“You can come across… as a bitch, like a real bitch… bitch… but I don’t think you are a bitch.” Victoria apparently had no answer to this. Shit. “I mean, I don’t hate you. I know how you feel, because Chloe fucked off to… uh. A city, I can’t remember… and Rachel, she went too, so I do think they were together. So I got la-uhh… left behind. As well.” Max Caulfield, master wordsmith. She promised herself then that she would never drink again. Victoria was trying to keep her crying under control, and it was sort of working, but she was still shaking like a leaf in a tornado. “LOS ANGELES!” Max shouted, when she remembered the city. “Los Angeles,” she said again, quieter. 

There was a moment that passed between them as Victoria gathered herself, and Max closed her eyes and tried not to think. The night was really cold, unusually so, and they were both unconsciously huddled against each other. Max’s head was against Victoria’s shoulder. It should have been the strangest thing in the world, Max sitting with and even leaning against the girl who had been and still was her bitter rival at school.   
The girl who had spread rumours about her. The girl who filmed other girls drunk at parties and laughed at them.   
But... this wasn’t the same girl. This was the raw, unprotected version of that girl, unmasked by alcohol and loneliness and the certainty that there would be nobody who would know the exchange had been passed, including Max. The shaking person with ruined makeup and messy hair Max was sitting with now was a different world away from THE Victoria Chase, queen bee of Blackwell, her enemy. The person she was sitting with now was just Victoria, a person like Max. 

“You’re just a person like me,” Max told her out loud, thinking it would be useful for her to know that. 

A pause. And then, “Thank you.” Another pause. “Okay, you need to get to bed before you pass out on me.”

“Are we in front of the dorms?”

“Yes.” Victoria got to her feet, slowly, still shaking a little.   
She offered Max a hand up without saying anything, helped her to her feet, and then led her inside. When they got to Max’s room, she sat Max on her bed, helped get her shoes off, took her jersey off, and then tucked her into bed. 

 

The last memory Max had of the night was a mournful-looking Victoria towering over her, hair hanging in front of makeup-smeared eyes, mouth slightly open as she breathed. “I will be seriously fucking pissed off if you remember any part of tonight,” she told Max, a strange expression on her face. Max wanted nothing more in that moment than to photograph her.   
“Do I get a goodnight kiss?” Max asked, smiling dopily.   
“Not tonight,” Victoria replied, the ghost of a smile on her lips. She then walked out, turning Max’s light off as she left.

Max was asleep before she even heard the door close.


	2. Max is a Penguin, Confirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Victoria's midnight meeting gets blown WAY out of proportion.

Max woke up the way she suspected most emo kids wake up: feeling shitty and ready for death. 

“Uuuuuughhhh,” she moaned, and covered her face with her hands. She’d never been properly hungover before, and this one was an absolute killer. It hurt to blink. Her stomach was just a sad cavity in her body filled with malicious acid. How the hell was she even alive? God, she was thirsty.   
“I am seriously never drinking again,” she grumbled, miserable. She lay there for a long time, regretting everything, trying to remember the night before.   
It had started off as an environment rally at the school, she remembered that. And then they put tents up -- oh shit, she needed to get the tent in -- and they’d all got wasted… then what happened?

Oh. Victoria. Victoria had happened. She’d just been thinking about her and then, poof, the girl showed up right out of nowhere. Think of the devil and the devil will appear. Except she hadn’t been the devil, had she? What had they talked about? Max had hugged her, she remembered that. 

“Max Caulfield, you are the biggest idiot to ever live,” she told herself out loud, in a dull voice. Talking made her headache worse, even though her words were muffled by her hands. Was that dirt? On her knuckles? Fuck the world. Waves of embarrassment rolled around in Max’s head along with her headache, a soft anxiety eating away at her. What else did she do that she couldn’t remember? What on earth had possessed her to think drinking that much had been a good idea in the first place? 

Chloe. It had been Chloe. Okay, fuck that, fuck that so much.

Max lay in her bed some more, eyes closed, wanting to cry but refusing to. How long passed during this time Max had no idea, but she was eventually interrupted by her phone ringing in her pocket. What now?

“Hello?” Max answered, seeing both that it was Stella who had rung, and that the time was 6:38am. Her face was tensed as if she expected someone to punch her. Wearing jeans as pyjamas was definitely not ideal. 

“Max? Is it true?” Stella asked, sounding wide awake and not hungover. Max envied her, but was also slightly annoyed at the random phone call.

“...What?” Max groaned. She had always thought Stella wasn’t a morning person, but here it was at half past six in the bloody morning and she was sounding as perky as a pre-recorded Barbie voice. Was it drugs? Stella would never do drugs, Max was sure. So why the hell..?

“The posters up around the school. Have you seen them?”

“It is six thirty eight. In the morning.” She hadn’t meant to sound angry, but this conversation was really rubbing her up the wrong way. “I’m hungover and I feel like crap. So, no, what are you talking about?”

“Oh my god,” Stella laughed, then hung up. 

Wow. Okay. 

Posters? What had she meant? That whole conversation was so weird. Max covered her face again. She could faintly smell the dried puke in her hair. Shit, she had probably been doused in the stuff when she hugged Victoria. She was never going to hear the end of this. Why had she let her hug her then? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Everything was so stupid. Stupid and weird as hell. Why couldn’t the world just be normal? 

Two sharp knocks sounded at Max’s door. They felt like gunshots against her head.

“Go away!” Max called, annoyed at how weak her voice sounded. She heard the door open anyway, and sighed. “What d-”

“What the fuck is this?” A cold, quietly furious hurricane gusted into Max’s room before she could even get two words out. Max uncovered her eyes and looked up. What a historic moment. The first hurricane to ever wear Cashmere. Victoria stood beside her bed, rigid as a statue, equal parts angry and scared at the same time. The defeated creature Max encountered last night was gone; in her place was the marble queen, hair perfect, makeup perfect, outfit perfect. How was she not hungover and why was she here? Had the universe officially gone crazy? 

“Uh?” Was all Max could manage. She had to stop thinking about Victoria, she decided. The girl appeared at the drop of a hat. 

“This, Max. This!” Max realised Victoria had a paper flyer in her hand, which she was now waving in front of her face. She was trying to act pissed, but Max heard real fear in her voice this time.

She took the flyer and squinted to read it, stifling giggles despite her growing headache as she did so.

EXPOSED!!!!!!!!! MAX IS A PENGUIN CONFIRMED!!!!!!  
VICTRIA CHASE AND MAX CAULFIELD CONFRMED 100% DATING!!!1!  
LUVBIRDS!!!!!1111!!1!  
YOU CANT HIDE YOU’RE LOVE FROM TE BLACKWALL STUDENTS!!!!!  
PENGUNS ARE NOT THE ONLY THING IKKY VIKKY ADOREZ  
#OTP #VIX 5EVA PHOTO TAKEN BY ANNONIMUS

Below that, though, was a series of three pictures which weren't so funny.   
They all showed Victoria and Max on the steps the night before, and though the photo quality wasn't great, they still looked pretty damning. All of them were taken from a side angle, to Max’s left in the bushes and slightly behind a jut in the building, where the two girls wouldn’t be able to see the photo taker. Creepy. How had they not at least heard that?  
The first was of Max hugging Victoria with her head on her shoulder. Victoria’s face was in her hands, but there was no mistaking that facial profile. The second showed Victoria standing up, in full view, holding a sitting Max’s hand in two of her own. Max’s face was turned to the side slightly, unmistakably her. This was taken when Victoria was giving Max a hand up, she realised, but it didn’t exactly look that way in the picture. Victoria was actually smiling in this one. The final photo showed Victoria’s face right in front of Max’s face so it looked as if they were kissing, though you couldn’t really see since the camera perspective was behind Max. What the hell was happening then? Had they actually kissed and Max just couldn’t remember? Or was it just a split second moment, perhaps when Victoria was glaring at her? 

The world was very weird today.

“I’ve never seen a shitpost outside of the internet,” was the only comment Max could think of. 

For a second, Victoria looked as if she were about to hit her. Then she seemed to gather herself, and said through gritted teeth, “They’re all over the school. And I mean ALL over.” She was shaking a bit, just like last night. 

“Did we actually..?”

“No. No. We didn’t do anything.” If spoken words could be made of stone, then these words would be just that. Victoria’s hazel eyes were burning, her jawline clenched, carved from a glacier. She was fire and ice all in one, and damn, that was terrifying. 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Max rubbed her face. “Well, nobody will really care about this, will they? They’ll know it’s bullshit. Probably someone just got wasted and thought it was funny. You can get them all taken down by the time people wake up, right?”

“If people suspect I’m gay I’ll be laughed out of Blackwell,” Victoria suddenly growled, in a low whisper, lunging forwards and grabbing Max’s shoulders. Her hands shook considerably. Max saw that there were tears in the other girl’s eyes, bitter and enraged. She smelled of lavender and spearmint. Did she brush her teeth before this? And what did she mean about people suspecting? “Do you understand how fucking serious this is? Photography is my whole life, and if I can’t go to Blackwell then I’ll have no chance of making it in the art world--”

At that point, Max’s bedroom door sprung open again, and a pumped-looking Zach burst in. He held a phone in one hand as if he were filming.   
“HEEEY!” He yelled, looking like he’d won the lottery, “CHECK OUT THE LESBIANS!”

“Zachary, this isn't how you think it is. Get out before I make you regret it.” Victoria spun and addressed him, her voice containing approximately three times more venom than the average black mamba snake. 

Max just lay back and watched blankly, blinking slowly, accepting that she was probably dead and this was probably hell.

“Okay, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone then,” Zach winked, then sprinted out again in an athletic looking way. His jersey was tied around his neck like a superhero's cape. 

“We aren't lovebirds,” Victoria called out behind him, slightly deflated. She turned back to Max and crossed her arms. Her sweater colour was lilac today, with a white shirt underneath. Her face was slightly pale. “Thanks for all your help,” she said, sarcastically. 

“Victoria, did you brush your teeth before coming in to see me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why does it matter?”

Max closed her eyes again, wishing that when she opened them she’d be back in the real world, where things made sense. 

“Maxine? How are we going to deal with this?” There was a ‘we’ now. Victoria tapped the side of Max’s face with perfect nails, urgently. Fishy? Why are you sleeping? 

“Max, never Maxine,” Max grumbled, opening her eyes again, swatting the hand away. “Is it really something we need to deal with though? Can you get me some water?”

“Zach’s video will probably be up on Facebook right now,” Victoria hissed, pacing the room, fingers digging into her scalp. “I was in your room early in the morning with my hands on your shoulders. Do you know how that looks? Do you know how humiliating this is for me? No, this is past humiliating, this is dangerous. Fuck.” She sat down on the chair at Max’s desk, looking exhausted.

“Just treat me like you normally do,” Max suggested. “Be bitchy and aloof. Shouldn’t be too hard.” She was debating grabbing her pillow, holding it over her own face, and suffocating the life out of herself. At least then she wouldn’t have to be dealing with this weirdness so early in the morning, with a hangover this bad. If you die in hell, do you just go to a second layer of hell? Maybe she’d wake up and there would be two Victorias glaring at her.   
Max wasn’t cold, but she shivered. 

“I can’t do that, that’s how I treat people I like. Taylor and Courtney already know that. Ugh.”

“Oh yeah?”

Victoria stood up, pointing at Max, her face slightly red. “Fuck. You.” She looked as if she were going to say more, then seemed to change her mind. “I’m gonna get on Facebook to do damage control. Since you’re fucking useless.” She left the room in a huff, the tornado vanishing over the horizon. 

Max supposed that meant she wasn’t getting any water.

 

Max got up a while later, threw up a few more times into a toilet, and then showered, washing her hair twice. The hot water felt nice on her skin, though today her ability to enjoy things was definitely down. She drank down a bit of the shower water as it hit her face, but stopped soon. Why was it that cold water tasted like absolute heaven, but warm water tasted like she’d just deep-throated a fish?  
Outside, she could hear Blackwell waking up, or at least getting out of bed. Apparently Max was the only person in the school to ever get hungover, since they all seemed pretty cheery. There were a few whoops and cheers from people she recognised, probably about the flyers everywhere. Victoria hadn’t been kidding about there being a lot of them. When Max had gone into the hallway they were all over the walls. How many had been printed out? And who printed them? She’d never been in the middle of a scandal before. Some of them were different to the first one, and just showed Max’s head photoshopped badly on to a penguin’s body. A reference to Victoria’s penguin speech last night, Max realised suddenly in the middle of her shower. 

 

Max was intercepted in the hallway on the way back by Dana and Juliet.   
“Girl, is it true?” Dana asked, excited. “Spill the beans.” She looked just as bright today as she had up on the podium asking for climate action, even in her pyjamas. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

“No,” Max told her, smiling at the both of them. “I don’t know who put those flyers up. Just a stupid prank, I think. Still pretty good.” She watched their smiles widen as if she’d said something funny.

“Mm-hm, sure,” Juliet laughed, nudging Dana. “I’m sure it is!”

“We’ll make sure not to leave you two alone from now on,” Dana winked at Max as the two backed away. They were gone before Max could formulate a reply. 

 

When Max got back in her room, she found Victoria tapping away at her keyboard, hunch-backed and determined.

“Victoria, what the hell?” Max moaned. “Is that my Facebook?”

“Okay, here’s what I said, you ready?” Victoria cleared her throat nervously. “‘To clarify, Victoria Chase and I are not a couple. We never were and we never will be. Thank you for your various concerns and messages of encouragement, but this is not, for obvious reasons, a path either of us wish to pursue. I wish you all well.’ How is that?” Victoria turned around, looking up at Max from the chair, wide eyes like a puppy. When Max just stared at her, the blank and lifeless stare of someone who was so completely and utterly done with her situation that she couldn’t even muster the words to convey it, Victoria added, “The post got forty-four likes so far, and it’s only been up for about ten minutes. That’s more likes than you’ve ever got on anything, right?”

“There are so many things wrong with this situation,” Max told her, deadpan. 

“Except..." Victoria's forehead creased. "The top comment is a hashtag with ‘Vix’, which is... concerning.”

“Could you please get out of my room?”

Victoria looked up again, slowly. She blinked and seemed to remember just at that point that intruding into the rooms of people you barely know and hijacking their Facebook was generally considered an impolite thing to do. “...Yeah. Sorry.” she left quietly, shutting the door behind her.

 

Nothing else to do, Max sat down at her desk and looked at the mess that was her Facebook page. Zach’s video was up. She was tagged in a whole bunch of posts, most of them pictures of the flyers, but some of them were pictures of penguins. Victoria had tagged her in a post that currently had over a hundred likes about how they weren’t a couple, and Max distastefully saw that Victoria had commented on the post as Max -- “couldn’t have said it better myself :)”. She had thirty-nine friend requests, eighteen private messages (she saw to her absolute horror that four of them were group chats), and overall ninety-two notifications.   
She just sat there and stared for a while, watching as the notifications kept pinging. It appeared that Victoria was back on her own Facebook now, judging from the friendly little messages she kept commenting like “BITCH YOU ALL NEED TO STOP SPREADING LIES” and “ONCE AGAIN, ALL OF THIS IS BULLSHIT”. Max couldn’t help but think Victoria was just feeding the flames by commenting so much. It would have been a better approach to just ignore it and not get too involved. 

She laughed. It was almost kind of cute, how seriously Victoria was taking all of this. 

Max browsed through the photos until she saw a good quality version of one of the flyers in the hallway, the one of Max’s head photoshopped over a penguin. The world was crazy, she’d accepted that, so why couldn’t she do something a little crazy? It would be stupid to not make the most of this whole drama, and everyone was wanting her to say something about it -- what she really thought about it -- anyway. Why not have a little fun with it? She basically had immunity to say whatever she wanted, at least for a day. Plus, now she could get payback for Victoria hacking her facebook. 

She made the Max-head penguin her new profile picture and watched shamelessly as the likes rolled in. 

She smiled when she heard the scream from the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, you should check out CacophonyandDiscord on youtube. They make cosplay music videos with Life Is Strange and they're legitimately the best part of my life right now.   
> Thanks to everyone who commented and gave kudos, it means a lot :)


	3. Evil Bread

Max spent the rest of her day on Facebook, replying to messages and commenting on things. She brought her laptop over to her bed, making herself into a hungover burrito, which was probably the best decision she’d made in at least a week. She managed to score Dana buying her a bottle of water through one of the group chats, which was something Max really admired -- it felt like she was part of a community. 

 

Victoria had been absolutely furious about the profile picture. She’d burst into Max’s room and attempted, wordlessly, to wrestle the laptop from Max’s possession. Her skin was hot. Max’s cries of “Not here, Victoria!” stopped that pretty fast, and drew an excited crowd.   
Max had an awareness of the other girl’s body and presence that she hadn't before; probably the kind of awareness that comes with two hundred people thinking the two of you are banging. At least... Max thought that was it.   
“I fucking hate you,” Victoria had growled, drawing away, staring into Max’s soul with her burning hazel eyes. She was panting lightly from the struggle, mouth drawn into a sneer. Max had accidentally scratched her cheek a little bit, so there was a red mark. Max found that symbolic, almost. Once again the marble was cracking. 

She had just smiled in reply. Someone wolf-whistled from the doorway, and Victoria closed her eyes for a moment. “Fuck me,” she’d whispered, “this just keeps on looking worse and worse, doesn't it?” She walked over and slammed the door aggressively, locking it. 

“Yeah… When you react like that, it kind of looks a bit suspicious.” Max stifled a giggle. They were whispering, very conscious of the gathered crowd outside the door. Max didn’t know why Victoria just didn’t leave already -- this was super awkward, and the closed door only made it look worse.

“Just… Why would you change the picture?” Victoria asked through gritted teeth, coming back to Max, standing intimidatingly close. Her arms were folded. She still smelled of lavender. 

“I don't know, I thought it would be funny!”

Victoria just stared, not breathing. “You thought it would be funny.” Her voice was empty, a lifeless echo. 

“Like I was... embracing the meme or something.” The conversation was getting more and more ridiculous as it went on, and the urge to laugh was getting greater and greater. 

“Embracing. The meme.” Victoria had pressed three fingers to her forehead, which was creased again, and closed her eyes. “You are giving me a migraine.” 

Max couldn't help it at this point, and burst out laughing. How was she supposed to take this all seriously? Especially with Victoria suddenly acting like they were an old married couple. 

“Ugh. Eat a dick, Max.” Victoria left at that, unlocking the door and stalking out, shoving past the watching crowd. 

“Oh my god! Lesbian drama!” Stella yelled, winking at Max and laughing as she was shoved extra hard. 

“I'm sorry you had to witness my domestic dispute,” Max had addressed them all, still laughing hysterically, tears streaming down her face.  
At times like this, she almost enjoyed the whole scandal. She just couldn’t take any part of it seriously.

 

At around about 6pm, Max came to two realisations. The first was that she was lazy as hell and had officially spent the whole day in bed. Although she’d showered, she’d just got right into her pyjamas afterwards, not even bothering to put deodorant on, so she probably smelled pretty bad. 

The second realisation was that it was movie night for the girls’ dorms, and everyone was expected to attend. 

Ever since Dana had watched some documentary on the power of positivity, she'd dragged the massive TV in her room out for a night once a weekend into the hallway, trying to get everyone to come out and watch movies. She seemed to think it was good for bringing them all closer, plus relieve school stress and have fun. Max hadn’t gone the first few times, due to shyness and homework, but when she did start going it quickly became the highlight of her weeks. Her realisation that this was happening again came in the form of a text message. 

‘gurl u r coming to the movie night’, Dana’s message read. Max smiled when she saw it. Dana had made it so that there was no question as to whether or not she was coming, which Max didn’t mind. She would have come anyway. She was feeling a lot better since this morning.

‘Sounds good! ^_^ what are we watching?’ 

‘evil dead ;)’ was the reply, followed by ‘I think u will hav fun with this 1 ;)’. Max had no idea what this meant, so, as she was doing with everything today, she just rolled with it. 

‘I’m sure I will, Dana. see you there. Xomaxo’

 

Max started getting ready when the voices in the hallway started getting louder and louder. She changed into her chicken t-shirt and pyjama shorts, put some deodorant on, and then set about dragging everything out.   
Everyone seemed pretty happy, chatting and laughing lightheartedly. The spots right up front were, as usual, taken.   
The corridor smelled the same as it always did, but Max could never place that the smell came from. Cleaning fluids? It seemed too natural a smell for that. It was nice, whatever it was.

“Hey Max!” Kate waved when Max appeared with her mattress. Max waved back, processing to drop said mattress. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the womaniser of Blackwell,” Brooke called out dryly, and everyone laughed, Max included. Brooke was one of the major Chasefield deniers online, as the so-called relationship was being called. A poll by Logan on what everyone thought pegged it at around 60/40 in favour of Chasefield, though Max didn’t know who was completely serious about it -- most people, like her, seemed to simply find the whole thing hilarious. 

Nathan had been notedly silent on the issue. 

“You guys suck,” Max told them, smiling, as she got her mattress back up. Victoria, Taylor, and Courtney were not there. They very rarely attended the movie nights. 

As she blended into the conversation and more of the girls flooded in with their mattresses, Max found herself tapping more into the positive atmosphere, as she did last night at the party. Kate had brought the popcorn this week, and she had brought a lot of it, so there was plenty to go around. 

Dana and Juliet showed up late, looking slightly high, with a plastic bag full of loaves of bread and the dvd. “We can make popcorn sandwiches!” Dana told them proudly, beaming like she’d found the cure for cancer. Everyone was in a good mood, so they cheered. Juliet put the dvd in, fumbling a bit, and they all shut up as the movie started.

“Sorry, Max, but do you know what we’re watching?” Kate asked Max as the opening logos and sinister music started. She was lying on her stomach beside her, to the left. She looked really nice today, her hair looking like it had been recently washed and her skin exceptionally clear. Her eyes were hazel like Victoria’s, but gentler, non-judgemental. 

Max stopped herself. Why did everything have to be linked back to Victoria all of a sudden?

“Uh… Evil Dead, I think,” Max told her. Kate pulled a face, and they both laughed. 

“That sounds... charming.”

The front door to the dorms opened, and of course, since she’d thought about her again, Victoria strode in. Taylor walked behind her, grinning. Max made eye contact with her and looked away fast, back at the screen. A girl was being chased by two guys in a forest. Thrilling stuff.   
The two went to their rooms, Victoria walking past Max wordlessly, stepping on mattresses. Taylor, close to the front, emerged first and went to the back, leaving a space between her and Max. She was giggling about something. Victoria appeared after that, dressed down in a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and light blue shorts of some form. It was definitely weird seeing her in non-designer clothes, though she definitely still looked nice. 

Victoria hesitated, then, seeing as there were no other places left, went in between Taylor and Max. Max heard her mutter “Fuck you, Taylor,” as she did so. She didn’t acknowledge Max at all. Max, once again going with the flow of the weird new world she’d woken up in, didn’t question it. Yeah, god dammit, Taylor. 

The movie continued on, and suddenly the girl was in some creepy basement, about to be burned at the stake by her father. She was crying and begging, but he was pouring gasoline on her head, giving absolutely zero fucks. The acting was pretty bad, but Max was invested so far. Kate was very tense next to her, her hand playing with the cross around her neck.   
Suddenly the girl revealed herself as some kind of demon thing, scream-laughing as it burned to death, and both Kate and Victoria jumped. 

“This is NOT Jesus approved,” Kate said, loudly, and everyone laughed, though Max wasn’t sure if the statement was ironic or not. 

The movie continued, and everyone steadily found it more and more funny. Pillows were thrown, acting was mocked, and popcorn sandwiches were attempted (they sucked). 

“This bread is so disgusting,” Juliet announced after her first bite, choking a bit. She bent over, long blonde hair obscuring her face. Onscreen a girl was dropping drugs down a well, vowing to never take them again, which Max thought was ironic. “What the hell kind of bread did you buy?” This last question was directed back at Dana.

“Bitch, just appreciate it!” Dana threw an entire loaf at Juliet, cackling. It hit her on the side of the face. “HEADSHOT!” She raised her arms in the air, blue eyes sparkling, victorious. 

“This isn’t bread!” Juliet threw the loaf back, also cackling. “This is the yeast of Satan!”

“EVIL BREAD!” Dana yelled. Everyone had been kind of laughing before then, but this was the point when they all lost it. Even Victoria snorted a bit, her lips curling upwards. Dana threw a slice of bread at the TV, shaking with laughter as she did it. “It is disgusting though,” she barely managed, tears streaming down her face. 

 

Nobody even cared about what was going on on the screen anymore. From that point on it turned into a full fledged food fight, with bread being scrunched up and thrown, people slapping full slices in their friends’ faces, and even Kate surprisingly jumping up and wielding a whole loaf, laughing with all the rest of them, saying “Boop!” every time she hit someone, mostly Max, softly. 

Max sprung to action, grabbed some bread, and began pelting Kate with it in retaliation. She also hit Stella, Dana, and Alyssa, who hit her back cheerfully. She then screwed two pieces together into a mega deadly assault weapon, looking for a worthy target, and realised Victoria was sitting beside her. The expression on the queen bee’s face had stopped everyone else from pelting her, but Max wasn't so intimidated by her anymore. Victoria seemed to sense her eyes on her, and turned sharply. 

“Don’t you dare, Caulfield,” she hissed. “Seriousl-”

Max’s bread ball hit her square in the face, and something seemed to activate in Victoria. “Right,” she fumed, her teeth gritted. Aggressively, she grabbed a handful of bread, pinned Max down with surprising strength, and proceeded to rub the wheat product in the other girl’s face. 

“NO!” Max kept shrieking, but she couldn’t stop laughing at the same time. There were crumbs in her hair, she knew, and when she breathed in she got a bit up her nose. “VICTORIA! STOP! I’M SORRY!”

“No you’re not, hipster,” Victoria said, starting to laugh a bit herself again. As she said each word, she rubbed the bread in some more. “You. Have. Stressed. Me. Out. So. Much. Today.” 

Kate booped her in the head and her eyes narrowed. “Right,” she said again, still smirking, and went for Kate. The whole thing was so out of character for her, but it somehow fit the moment. Everyone was so tired and drama-d out and going a little crazy right now.

Also, like she’d already decided, Max wasn’t questioning anything this weekend. 

Max coughed and wiped the bread crumbs off her face. Around her everyone was fighting and screaming and laughing.

It was honestly the happiest she could remember being since… well, since before Chloe left. Maybe that was how you mastered the art of not thinking, Max thought. You didn’t even think about not thinking. 

 

The fight ended eventually, and the movie was paused for everyone to try to get all the crumbs out of their sheets. “Hansel and Gretel would have a field day from all this,” Max heard Taylor chuckle softly. Nobody could stop laughing. Max’s sides hurt. She tried to get all the crumbs out of her hair, but the effort was futile. 

“Dammit, Vic, you defiled my weave,” Max mumbled, still trying to get the bread out. At least it showed up well in her dark brown hair. She hadn't expected anyone to hear her say this, but of course, Victoria did. 

“Um, no. We are NOT on nickname basis.” Victoria huffed, shaking her duvet out. She was one of the only ones with a duvet. She wasn't quite smiling anymore, but her body language was relaxed. Okay, so we were back to this.

“Girl, last time I checked you were on nickname basis with the whole school!” Taylor yelled out unexpectedly, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Icky Vicky.”

Victoria thrust the sheets into Taylor’s face, then, deciding that wasn't enough, pushed her to the ground.   
“Bitch,” she said, her face slightly red. Everyone cracked up again.

 

When things had calmed down enough for them to continue the movie, Max learned another thing about Victoria. She was learning a lot about Victoria today. So far she’d learned that Victoria had no sense of personal space; she apparently never got hungover; and she wore white, non-designer brand t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up as pyjamas.   
The next thing she learned was that Victoria got way too into horror movies.

“Fuck!” Victoria’s whole body twitched at a jump scare, when the main girl was walking around the forest and there was clearly something following her. “Just go back inside! Stupid! Seriously, if you’re as dumb as that, I’m sorry, natural selection is coming for you.”

And then, when the girl showered in boiling water: “This is the stupidest movie I’ve ever seen. They only included that so that the makeup team could have a field day. Dumb bitch. I bet she won’t even look burned after this. I don’t care what crazy shit is happening to you, like even if you’re possessed or whatever, you’re not gonna stand under boiling water like it’s a light rain shower. So dumb.”

And then, when the girl was fully possessed and freshly locked in the cellar: “Oh fuck. Oh, nope. That’s the point when you run. Your sister is dead, sorry, time to gap it. Bye. These guys are so dumb, I swear-”

“Tori, shut up!” Taylor interrupted, shoving her friend’s shoulder gently. Her tone suggested that this was not a new occurrence. 

“I’m just saying,” Victoria huffed, “they’re fucking dumb. If I were in that movie I’d be on top of everything. And that bitch-” she pointed at the possessed girl, whose name Max still hadn’t bothered to remember, “would be going up in flames just like the first ho. And shot. In the face.” 

“Okay, but you need to shut up.”

“But they’re stupid.”

“VICTORIA!”

This had been the end of it for a little while, but soon enough, to Max’s deep amusement, Victoria started up again. 

“You can’t fucking cut your face off with mirror glass,” she stretched her arms out in a what-the-hell gesture. Her face was scrunched up in utter distaste, though she smiled a little bit at Max’s audible giggle. “It would break. Do they think we’re stupid?”

“Tori, I will personally cut your face off if you say another word,” Taylor threatened, laughing but exasperated. 

“Yeah, stop ruining the beautiful cinematographic experience!” Dana yelled, half-heartedly throwing a piece of popcorn at the scowling girl. There had been a lot of popcorn spilled during the food fight, but luckily, since Kate had brought so much, there was still some left. 

“I say keep going,” Max mumbled, not expecting to be heard but, as usual, she was.

“There, see, at least one person enjoys my commentary,” Victoria gestured to Max, a defiant eyebrow raised to the rest of the girls. 

“Yeah, of course she does,” Stella snorted. 

Victoria shot the bespectacled girl a look that could have probably killed a kitten, and Stella put her hands up defensively. 

“Okay, seriously though, Tori, you need to shut up,” Taylor interjected, touching her friend’s arm.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.” Victoria looked around, almost apologetic. “Sorry everyone, I’ll seriously try to stop this time.” She shot Max a look that was almost companionable. “Even though not everyone hates it.”

 

They finally kicked her out when the cellar scene happened.   
The blonde girl in the movie saw that the previously bolted cellar door was wide open, with the possessed girl sobbing down by the stairs, asking for help in a human voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Victoria asked, blankly, disgusted. “She’s just gonna kill her. And why can she suddenly open the cellar now? It stopped her pretty well before.”

“Shut up, Tori,” Taylor moaned, focussed intently on the screen. 

The blonde went down into the cellar to help. “Is she serious? I’m so done with this movie. What the hell would make you think that was an intelligent thing to do? She’s-”

“TORI!”

The possessed girl turned around to reveal that, yes, she was still possessed, and yes, the blonde girl made a huge mistake. “And now you’re stuck in the cellar with some creature from hell or whatever. And you deserve it. Because you’re stupid.”

“Victoria, it’s not funny anymore,” Juliet turned around, pausing the movie. “Either you shut up or you get out. Does everyone agree?”  
A chorus of quiet agreement. The girls were all snuggled into their sheets, most of them lying on their stomachs or sides. Some of them looked wide awake and buzzed from the adrenaline of the situation, like Kate and Alyssa; some looked sleepy and neutral like Dana and Stella. 

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” she scoffed, but softened. “Yeah, I promise. One more comment and I’ll leave.”

The movie was turned on. The possessed girl cut her tongue into two with a craft knife.

“OKAY, NO. EW. OH MY GOD. NO. NO. NO.” Victoria covered her face with her hands, but despite this, still kept talking. “That is fucking disgusting, ugh.”

“Okay, you’re out. We warned you. Come on.” Juliet paused the movie again, exasperated. “Get out.” Dana looked at Max and raised an eyebrow. Max remembered her text, something about how she’d have fun with this one. Well, she wasn’t wrong. Max did remember she hadn’t attended the first two movie nights. Was this why Victoria never showed up?

Victoria just nodded in response to Juliet, one hand still covering her face. Since when did she let people boss her around? Though, to be fair, she did seem to be aware that she was ruining the movie for everyone. Max watched as the girl picked up her mattress, dejectedly, and move towards her room. 

 

She’d just looked back at the screen when she heard Victoria scream. 

“WHAT?” Juliet yelled, clearly agitated, pausing the movie again. 

Victoria just backed away from her room, eyes half closed, shaking her head. “Come here.”

The girls trooped over to look in. Suddenly, everyone was laughing again. People were taking pictures, running and jumping into the room, and otherwise having a ball. Victoria’s face was bright red, and when Max saw it, she laughed until she fell to the ground and tears were streaming from her eyes. 

The room, up to just above bed height, had been filled with stuffed penguin toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by extreme sleep deprivation. I was watching Evil Dead at 4am in my grandma's hospital room using public wifi to bring this chapter to you, trying not to scream whenever nurses ducked their heads in... good times.  
> Anyone who's read this so far and enjoyed the story, but isn't intending on leaving kudos and/or commenting, can expect to find me under your bed tonight.   
> I will probably sleep for at least twelve hours after posting this.  
> Peace


	4. AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The next morning, Max was summoned to the principal’s office over the school intercom. Victoria had, unsurprisingly, been summoned in the same message. Max knew Principal Wells didn’t work Sundays, so the fact that he was asking to see the both of them now was highly significant. 

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what this was going to be about. 

Victoria’s rushed facebook message came within a minute of the announcement being made: ‘im leaving first so DO NOT COME until its been a few minutesor itll look weird’. 

‘Yeah, we wouldn’t want principal wells thinking we’re in a secret relationship or anything ^_^’, Max replied, smiling as she did so.   
Last night, Victoria had sat in the middle of the penguin filled mess that was her room for at least three hours straight, staring vacantly, barely blinking, a tick in her eye. Taylor had taken a picture of her, filtered it in black and white, and posted it on Facebook with the caption “All around me are familiar faces… :( #PrayForVicky”. [Max had been on the internet long enough to understand that one,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6XfvRj0Etc) and had spent an embarrassingly long time laughing at it. The fact that Taylor was getting into this was one of Max’s favourite factors in this situation. Courtney, from what Max had seen, had stepped back big time, and Nathan was completely out of the picture. She hadn’t even seen him around school. 

Victoria had replied to Max’s message with ‘you are ruining my life’. It was quite possible that Victoria was being ironic; god knows everyone else was. But Max guessed she would never really know.

 

She walked to Principal Wells’ office, slowly, appreciating the warmth and trying to avoid as many people as she could. She liked waking up early, though she wasn’t exactly a morning person. It was Blackwell that made it enjoyable; there were so many potential photos to be taken in the area, so much to say about the world. She could feel the inspiration in the atmosphere, like a sub-current of oxygen, almost completely overwhelming at first. The thought that thousands of students just like her had been here before her was an amazing thought. It made her wonder what photos she would take in the future, and what would become of them.   
The food stands from Friday’s rally were gone, she noticed, and the rubbish all cleaned up. Max wondered what was happening with that next. She’d heard of a protest at the beach happening at some point, but as far as she could tell, nothing had been organised yet.   
It seemed like the world had been postponed to laugh at her fake relationship. 

When she got into Principal Wells’ office, she found him sitting at his desk, wearing a nasty bright pink button-up shirt and tan shorts, which was weird enough to see. She’d never been in his office before. It was well air-conditioned and smelled of coffee, but also had a strange new-building smell. There were two seats facing towards the desk.  
Victoria was sitting still as a marble statue on the seat to the right, dressed perfectly as always, in black today. She didn’t look behind her as Max entered the room. Max thought that perhaps the blonde girl was in shock from seeing that hideous shirt. 

Principal Wells smiled warmly at Max as she sat down in the left chair. The chair obviously cost quite a bit of money, and was very uncomfortable. “Welcome, Max! Sorry to call you in on a Sunday, but I thought this was important to address as soon as possible.” 

“Is everything okay?” Max asked, after a pause. A sideways glance at Victoria revealed she still hadn’t moved in any way. She looked as if she were going to a funeral. If she’d showed up wearing a black veil over her eyes, Max wouldn’t have been surprised. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if Gandhi burst into the room riding a pterodactyl at this point. 

“Everything is absolutely fine. You two have nothing to worry about.” More warm smiling. Max could sense a speech coming. “Blackwell, as you know, is very liberal, as you’ll find many places specialising in the arts are. Let me say that I am highly proud of you girls for being open about yourselves, and representing diversity in our academy. You have nothing to fear in terms of discrimination here. I know the way the relationship was announced was… unfortunate… but everything I’ve heard from other students has been overwhelmingly positive in the way you’ve handled yourselves from there, and been unafraid to be who you are.” He sat back, waiting for a reply, his teeth a startling white comparison to the darkness of his face. 

Max just stared at him, unblinking like Victoria, smiling a little but completely and fully dead inside. She could just imagine the emails Blackwell students had been sending him. Those. Little. Shits. Max had been in a lot of awkward situations, especially in these past few days, but sitting there sweating in this expensive seat, breathing in coffee and tension… this was pretty bad. The shocking bright pinkness of Principal Wells’ shirt was the icing on the metaphorical awkwardness cake. 

When he didn’t receive a reply, Principal Wells continued on, undeterred. “So, anyway, what I’ve been talking to Miss Chase about before you got here, was that there have been tons of emails coming in wanting interviews. The Arcadia Bay Beacon has expressed interest, and the magazine PopVine wants to do an article, as well as showcase a few of your own photos and maybe do a photoshoot. For monetary compensation, of course.” 

Holy shit. This made Max sit up. PopVine? Publishing her photos? Like a real photographer? She knew what getting published meant. This was a gateway into the professional photography industry, a huge offer. Principal Wells saw her eyes widen and smiled even wider. Victoria stayed still. This wasn’t Stoic Victoria, Max realised. This was Victoria’s new form. This was… Stunned Mullet Victoria. Principal Wells continued. 

“I think the extraordinary nature of how the relationship was outed, plus the… incidents that have occurred around it have drawn a lot more attention than you’d think, especially because of Miss Chase’s well established parents in the photography community. On top of that, The Most Distinguished Student Award, as you know, is already being scouted now. While you may not be interested in it, Miss Caulfield, the relationship between you two and the dignified way you’re both handling this situation definitely puts you on the alert list, and further strengthens Miss Chase’s application. I can think of many other college scholarships and opportunities that could arise for you girls, if this is something you want to pursue.”

“This is… all so overwhelming,” Max said, after a pause in which the grinning man waited for her to reply. Now she knew why he was so happy -- what this really meant to him was publicity for Blackwell, a further chance to outline the academy as a progressive, important place. The bribe was blatant, even to Max. No wonder he came in on a Sunday. The guy couldn’t wait to secure this deal.

But… holy shit. PopVine? A magazine wanted to actually interview her and publish her photos? For monetary compensation? College scholarships? This was all turning so serious. 

Except…. She knew the price for that. Was she willing to pay it?

“Yes, I can see this is a very big thing for you girls to be considering, especially on a Sunday, for which I apologise. I can give you some time to think about it, of course. I know this may be a scary prospect.” He didn’t look apologetic. His dark, shiny eyes were full of premature victory. 

His face changed, and suddenly he became very serious. “Just, I’m sorry, but I do have to ask… I must admit I’m surprised at this... particular pairing. I have been made aware of Blackwell students faking relationships as jokes in the past before. If you want to go any further, you’re going to need to promise me you are in a genuine relationship. Are you?”

Victoria spoke up next to Max before she could even open her mouth, which was good because there was a high possibility that Max would have just screamed.

“Yes, Principal Wells. She’s one of the best parts of my life, and I’d be lost without her.” Victoria finally looked over at her, taking Max’s hand and smiling in a way that actually appeared genuine. It was a pretty smile, made even more captivating from the fact she almost never used it. Victoria’s hand was very warm, but not uncomfortably so. She turned back to Principal Wells. “Thank you for much for giving us this opportunity and being so open minded,” she told him, in what Max recognised as her ‘kissing-teacher-ass’ voice. “I’m so grateful to be at a school as accepting as Blackwell, where I can truly be myself. It really means a lot to me, and I’m sure that will reflect in the interviews.” Victoria’s perfectly plucked eyebrow pricked up a little at the significance of this, which of course was not lost on Principal Wells. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he smiled at her, the biggest smile yet. “Well, that was all I had. Thank you for your time. I’ll get in contact with you both on Monday or so about the offers. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!”

 

When Max and Victoria got out of the office, they kind of stood outside and stared at each other for a while, too horrified to do anything. It was significantly hotter outside the office, which Max enjoyed, though her hand was feeling cold now it wasn’t being held. The hallway was empty. All around them were environmental flyers, brightly coloured lockers, blaring artificial lights. It was a very surreal moment. Max thought she could hear her own racing heart beat.

“So…” Max said finally, smiling a little but still blank in the eyes, “I’m one of the best parts of your life?”

Stunned Mullet Victoria didn’t reply, just stared, aghast. “I didn’t mean that,” she murmured, after a long pause. She pressed three fingers to her creased forehead, her thumb tucked into the crook of her eyebrow, and closed her eyes.

“Am I giving you a migraine?” Max blurted, remembering how she’d done the same thing yesterday. Yesterday? Yesterday. Someone yelled outside, but there was still nobody in the hallway with them. Her heartrate was still way up.

“Yes.”

Max wanted to ask why Victoria had done what she did, but she already knew the answer. She couldn’t blame her for it, since she’d considered giving the same answer. So instead she asked, “How are we going to keep this up?”

“I don’t know.”

A very long pause. 

“Do you remember, like, being a little kid and having no responsibilities?” 

“Max, I’m a Chase. I’ve had responsibilities since the day I was born.” Victoria took a deep breath, and seemed to steel herself. Her hand left her head, and her forehead smoothed out, though she was frowning again. “This is just going to have to be one of them.”

“Okay.” Max had no other answer to this. They stared at each other a little more, unable to move. Victoria’s hair shone golden in a crack of sunlight beaming down on to her. “Okay,” Max said again. “I’m going to go to my dorm.”

“Yeah,” Victoria nodded, as if she hadn’t entirely heard her. She blinked slowly. “Yeah, okay.”

“...See you around, I guess.”

“...Yeah.”

 

* * * * * *

 

Chloe finally found out about the "relationship" at around about mid-day. She had a habit of not checking her phone regularly in recent times, sometimes for days on end, but it looked like she finally had now. 

Max had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing around and around in the same tired circles.   
How the hell was she going to convince everyone the two were in love when they couldn’t stand each other? Blackwell may not care as long as it remained hilarious to them, but what about everyone who interviewed them? It would take about five seconds to establish that there was absolutely no spark there. She didn’t think PopVine would be too impressed by that. 

Oh god, and would they have to kiss for the photoshoot?   
Max couldn’t imagine anything worse than that. Not that Victoria didn’t have nice lips, or that she was unattractive, Max wouldn’t have any problems there. But Victoria was a huge pain in the ass. And… there was one main but, which Max was trying not to think about.

She just… she wasn’t Chloe.

Which was why, when the phone call came in, Max nearly fell off the bed. 

“H-” she began, but Chloe steamrolled right ahead of her.

“MAX? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? VICTORIA CHASE? TELL ME THIS IS BULLSHIT!” Chloe sounded frantic, panicked almost. Max knew the concern in her voice was genuine, because she knew her so well, and Max’s heart broke a little at hearing it. Shit. Keep it together, Caulfield. 

“Uh… It’s a really long story,” Max rubbed her face, clenching her eyes shut. She was still lying down, dark brown hair sprawled all over her pillow. Her voice sounded exhausted even to her. 

“WHAT? Oh god, oh god, oh god. Okay, I’m coming to Arcadia Bay. Shit. This is… are you okay?” There was the sound of footsteps, as if Chloe were pacing. “What did she do to you? Are you being blackmailed? This is hella bullshit…”

“Chloe, no! I’m fine, honestly. I…” What could she say? What was there to say? “Do you want to hear the whole story?”

“Max.” The sound of a cigarette being lit. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything.” 

So Max did. She told Chloe about the party Friday night, the alcohol (“You got wasted?” Chloe had asked, excited, seeming to forget her previous agitation for a second. “Hey! Maxipad’s growing up!”), the pictures taken as her and Victoria had one of the first civil conversations of their lives. The morning after, when Max was super hungover and all those flyers were up. Max told her about the craze of all the other students, the break-in of Victoria’s room, and then, finally, Principal Wells’ proposition this morning. And what had happened with that.

When she was finished, Chloe was silent on the line for a while, thinking. Max imagined her frowning but still beautiful, leaning on a defaced wall in a shitty apartment, cigarette smoke swirling around her form. It wasn’t good to imagine these things, but dammit, she couldn’t help it. Finally, Chloe took a puff, and asked: “So… what are you gonna do?”

“I… don’t know.” Max wanted to cry.

“Do you… I mean, do you like her?” 

“Chloe, she’s the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever met. Apart from you. She was on my Facebook account.”

Chloe just laughed and took another puff. There was silence for a few more moments. Then, “Well, you’re gonna have to make it work, you know. I know how important this photography shit is to you. All bullshit aside, this is a hella great opportunity.” That was a surprisingly mature answer. Living full time with Rachel must be really positively affecting her. Not that that didn’t hurt, but it was nice as well.

“How?” 

“I don’t know, take a road trip or some shit. Stargaze. Ooh, get high with her! That’s what I’d do.” Some things never change. That was comforting. 

“Somehow I don’t think she’d be the type to get high.”

“You’d be surprised. Get Frank to hook you up, see what happens.”

“Chloe! I’m not getting Victoria high!” Max started laughing despite herself. A conversation with Chloe always did that for her eventually. Shit, she missed her so much.

“You’re still calling her Victoria? Dude, that’s too much of a mouthful. I thought she was Icky Vicky now. You wanna get soppy, you’re gonna need to start up the pet names, you know.”

“Gross! And that’s the same amount of syllables!” 

“Way to get technical, smartass.”

They both laughed, the fond laughter that only true friends share together. Max thought about what Chloe said for a bit, then asked, tentatively, “You really think I should try get to know her? Wouldn’t that just end in disaster? I don’t think we’d be into the same things somehow.”

“It’ll work if you make it work, I guess. You both have photography, you can build from there.” God. This was really progressive stuff Chloe was saying, especially from a girl who used to want to watch the world burn. She’d had a depressive slump the year before, which Max and Rachel had both helped her through. Hearing her talk like this was a definite sign that things were better. “I mean, shit, what else is there to do? They have you by the balls now. Unless you wanna go back and tell Wells the whole thing was bullshit?”

“Yeah, I guess. I… thanks, Chloe.”

“No matter what you choose, I know you’ll make the right decision.” 

“Thanks for believing in me, Chloe.” Max opened her eyes, then shut them again, extra tight. “I love you.”

“Love you too, SuperMax. Hey, look, I gotta shoot now, I got work in like half an hour and it takes ages to get there…”

“At the tattoo parlour?” Chloe had started work cleaning at a popular tattoo place. Max didn’t know the name of it, but she knew how much Chloe loved the job. Rachel, unsurprisingly, had found work as a model. For all her lack of tact, Chloe had deliberately not brought Rachel up this conversation, which Max appreciated. “Okay, have a good time. It was nice talking to you!”

“Yeah dude, we need to talk more often. Good luck with your girlfriend!”

“Bastard.”

Chloe laughed and hung up. 

Max took the phone away from her ear, slowly, breathing out a massive sigh as she did so. She spent a long time staring at the phone, turning it over and over in her hands, exploring all the little scratches and ridges, her mind still a jumbled and confusing mess. And then:

“Fuck it,” she whispered. She went into the contacts, selected Victoria, and typed out a message.

‘Hey Victoria, do you want to camp out with me 2night? Tent is all set up :)’

Her finger shook as she pressed send.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long wait, life is strange for me at the moment (ba dum tiss). If anyone has any suggestions for what they want to happen next, feel free to comment and I'll consider it (not that I'm running out of ideas, this stuff basically writes itself)  
> Have a beautiful rest of your day :)


	5. F Is For Friends Who Do Stuff Together

The look on Victoria’s face was priceless when she arrived. Max wasn’t sure what the other girl had been expecting when she agreed to come -- one of those 8-person monster tents like the one the Vortex club had? Max’s tent was definitely not designed for eight people. Hell, it probably couldn’t even fit four. Had the girl never seen a two-person tent before?

“What the fuck is this?” She asked, arms crossed, looking personally offended. 

Max’s tent was still standing, thankfully untouched by any of the other Blackwell residents or wildlife. It was set right up at the edge of the school grounds where field melted into forest, a natural brown colour, so probably nobody had even seen it. At the time, Max had thought she and Stella put it up pretty well considering they couldn’t even read the instructions, but in the light of day it did admittedly look a bit sad and misshapen. At least they put the rainproof cover on right. 

“It’s something called a tent,” Max replied. She was highly amused, both from Victoria’s horror and the nightmare that had just happened.

They’d agreed on a time -- just before sunset -- and walked out together with their stuff, though Victoria had apparently thought they were going on a three week hike judging from the size of the bag she originally tried to bring. Max had talked her out of it, and had spent a dumbfounded ten or so minutes in Victoria’s room, watching as she pulled out a whole variety of stuff from her bag -- shampoo, paperclips, sunblock, you name it. 

They had tried to leave quietly, without being seen, but nothing happens in the girls dorms without everyone there finding out. It had been Dana, of course, who had sounded the alarm. Basically every girl in the building had swarmed out to get a word in. Max had never been lectured so much about safe sex in all her life, and definitely never so enthusiastically. It was all worth it, though, to see a clearly on-edge Victoria no longer be able to say anything to dispute this. If her lips had been pressed together any harder, she’d have broken her teeth. 

“I know it’s a tent,” Victoria snapped irritably. “But like… what did you do to it?”

“I may have botched it a little bit,” Max told her, climbing in awkwardly with her bag. The tent was empty except for those useless instructions, though it was thankfully dry. The sunset illuminated the tent with a kind of orange-brown light, warm and inviting. “I think I did okay though. The instructions are in Chinese, look,” she thrust the piece of paper out the opening of the tent.

“This is Japanese,” Victoria frowned, scanning the instructions. 

“How can you tell?”

Stunned Mullet Victoria appeared for a second, then was instantly buried. “I... just do. I thought most academic people knew. I guess not.”

“You think I’m academic?”

“No. Yes. Ugh.” Three fingers on her forehead, thumb under the eyebrow. “Just get out of there and let me fix it.” Victoria glowered down at Max, who had her head poked out the tent flap as though the crooked brown monstrosity were birthing her. Max didn’t reply, just waited. “...Please.”

Max got out, and watched in mild surprise as Victoria disassembled and reassembled the tent within what was easily the space of five minutes. Victoria worked fluidly, effortlessly, frowning all the way. By the end of the process the tent stood absolutely perfectly. Even the rainproof cover was tied up with neat looking bows, which Max thought was actually kind of adorable. Perfectionist finishing touches on things had always touched her in a way she couldn’t explain.  
Wowsers.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Max asked, distracted, as Victoria pulled out a big plastic thing from her bag. When the hell had she packed that? “When the hell did you pack that?”

“You’re not as attentive as you think,” Victoria muttered, the ghost of a smile on her lips, clearly pleased with herself. She unfolded it out inside the tent, and Max saw it was an inflatable double mattress. Okay, that would be nice to sleep on. Thank you, Chase wealth. “I’ve been camping before, Max.”

“I thought ‘camping’ to you meant staying the winter in your private lodge on Mount Snobbicus or something,” Max confessed, giggling a little. “Okay, which of us is blowing that mattress up?”

Victoria pulled out a metal contraption from her bag, and gave her a look. Max really wanted to take a picture of that -- Victoria still dressed in her funeral-black clothes, the sun setting behind her in an orange swirl, a strand of blonde hair cutting between her eyes, holding the metal thing like it was the most obvious thing in the world -- but the moment was over all too soon.   
“That’s what this is for,” Victoria explained impatiently, hooking the machine up to the deflated mattress and flicking on a switch. It immediately started whirring. “That should be ready in a little while.” She thought for a bit, still processing what Max had said. “And fuck you. Mount Snobbicus. The rudeness of some people.” Was that friendly sarcasm? Hard to tell. 

“Do you have a lodge though?” Max pressed, smiling when she saw the twitch in Victoria’s frown that answered the question better than words ever could. 

“Fuck. Off.”

 

* * * * * *

 

It was night before they knew it, and Max realised she was actually having an okay time. The girls had waited for the mattress to finish inflating, talking in that lighthearted, insult-for-insult form of language they’d developed between each other. When the mattress was inflated, they’d chucked their stuff into the tents, set up their sleeping bags, and kind of just crawled in and talked some more. 

There was a definite sexual undertone between them, and Max knew Victoria felt it too. She didn’t think she liked Victoria like that; she figured it mostly came from the entire girls dorms thinking that they were having passionate lesbian sex right at this moment. Also, the prospect of having to pretend that, in fact, that was exactly what they were doing. 

Like Chloe suggested, Max started initially with photography stuff, and like Chloe also said, it really did progress from there. Photography turned into talking about people in their class, to talking about whether or not Principal Wells’ teeth were real (Max had never even questioned it; Victoria, however, was convinced they were false). This evolved into trying to put a value on human teeth, to then putting a value on human life -- Victoria argued that hospitals did so all the time in their allocated budget, and in life or death situations like the trolley problem you also had to calculate it. Max eventually had to agree. They’d then talked about the trolley problem for a little bit, trying to decide what they’d do. Would you sacrifice the life of the person you love, or the lives of five strangers? They both agreed that theoretically they should save the lives of the five people. But… when it really got down to it, right at the core, they both agreed that they didn’t know if they could actually do it or not. Max thought of Chloe for this. She didn’t think she could sacrifice her for the world. Could Chloe sacrifice her? 

Could Max sacrifice Victoria?

Let’s see. Victoria talked during movies, and she hacked Max’s facebook, and she’d taken about twenty nerve-wracking minutes to reply to Max’s camping text. Theoretically, Max should want to not only run Victoria over, but also her entire family, everyone and everything she’d ever loved, and also write ‘VICTORIA SUX’ on her grave.   
But, despite all that, there were also a lot of aspects in which Max admired Victoria: her photo taking skills, her perfect setting up of the tent, and the flawlessly hilarious moments that always seemed to occur around her. 

She could still remember the warmth of Victoria’s hand in hers earlier on in the principal’s office. That was nice, to have someone hold her hand again. If they were going to fake a relationship, they were going to be doing a whole lot of that. Max decided she wouldn’t mind so much. 

Max lay back for a while, thinking about all this. Victoria was the last person on earth she thought she’d have a conversation about the trolley problem with. Max could see the hazy outline of Victoria facing her in her sleeping bag, her facial features blurred in the dull moonlight. She may have been frowning; Max couldn’t see. Probably. She could hear crickets chirping outside. Another surreal moment, though it was nice. She was warm.

“Max, do you like girls?” Victoria asked unexpectedly. Her tone was unreadable. Sounds like Victoria had been on the same train of thought as Max had been, then.

“Yeah,” Max replied instantly. She thought of Chloe, dancing on her bed, music blaring, cigarette smoke clouding the room. The thought was automatic, and it hurt. “Do you?”

“...Yes.” Victoria was very hesitant about admitting this, Max could tell. In a way this information surprised her, and in a way it didn’t. “I want to say don’t tell anyone, but… I kind of ruined that for the both of us, didn’t I?”

“I mean… yeah,” Max was forced to admit, “You did, but I still don’t see the problem with it. The people of Blackwell are pretty liberal with this kind of thing.” A pause. Max could smell Victoria’s expensive perfume, whichever one it was today. Instead of having a signature smell, Victoria rotated around about five different ones. Yesterday it was lavendar; today it was more like cinnamon. Realising she’d paused, she continued, “What are your parents like with it?”

“My dad’s bisexual, so I don’t think they’ll care all that much. They’ll probably want to meet you. I’m not worried about Blackwell either, though Courtney’s clearly not into it. Like I give a fuck about her opinion.” Bitterness was creeping back into her tone. Okay, so that was a sore spot.

“And… Nathan?” Max knew it was probably bad to ask before the words had passed her lips, but she couldn’t stop herself. At the mention of the name, there was a liquid tension in the air, immediate and very noticeable. 

Victoria didn’t reply for a long time, and Max knew she’d pissed her off. Finally, though, Victoria said in an odd controlled tone, “Nathan and I are no longer on good terms.” Max wished she could see Victoria’s face in the dull light. What expression lurked there? Sadness? Anger? Shame?

“Is it too personal? You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, I’ll understand.”

A pause even longer than the first one. “Do you want to know? If you want to know, I’ll tell you, because we’re in this so-called relationship now and you deserve to know.”

“I’d like to know. And... I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Max thought she knew the story anyway.

“Thanks. Um… Please don't hate me.” Victoria took a very deep breath, then began.   
When she spoke now, she spoke slowly, carefully, robotically. Like she was trying to distance herself from the words even as she said them. “Lately, you may have noticed Nathan hanging around with some girl who’s new to town. Tall, redhead, figure like a goddess.” Victoria’s tone of voice indicated that this girl was perhaps the antichrist, or at the very least ate babies in her spare time.   
“Her name is Gwen Stuart. Ridiculously wealthy family. Richer than mine. In contest with the Prescott wealth, I’d say, which basically meant the families were enemies from the start. Too much money and too much time, I know how it goes. Nathan was… he was drawn to her immediately.” The pain in this sentence was as clear as the night was not.   
“He started spending more time with her than he ever did with me. Always had some bullshit excuse -- sorry, Tori, I’ve got too much homework or whatever -- but I knew he was with her. He never announced publicly that they were going out; he couldn’t, for fear of what his dad would say, but he never had to. We all knew what was happening.” Victoria took another deep breath.   
“I was crazy jealous. More jealous than I’ve ever been. I thought that what I had with Nathan, he couldn’t have that with anyone but me. That it was exclusive to us. Which makes me sound selfish. But. I thought it was going to be just me and him against the world, you know?”

“I… yes. I know the feeling.” Max’s throat was dry. Nights with Chloe were flashing through her head; watching horror movies until it was daylight, sneaking out to the junkyard to cause some trouble, the time Chloe had kissed her in the rain when Max’s nose had bled because she’d bet Chloe wouldn’t. Then kissed her again, this time because Max had asked her to.

And then… Rachel happened.

“So.” Victoria’s voice snapped her back into the present. “I did something that was bad. Really, really bad. And stupid.” She sounded like she had a hand over half her face. “I talked to Gwen on her own and told her…” Deep breath. “That Nathan was gay. And that he was using her as a beard -- you know, a straight disguise. I said he’d never admit to it, but it was true. I said he shit talked her to me all the time. I… I told her it was better she knew now rather than later.”

“Okay, well, that’s definitely bad,” Max said after a pause. “But I don’t see how it could sabotage their relationship. Gwen could have easily just called bullshit.”

“You underestimate how much of a bitch I am,” Victoria laughed bitterly. “Nathan’s been telling me for years that he thinks he likes guys too.” Oh shit. There it was. “His father’s… not like mine. He’d skin him alive. I knew if I said he was gay he’d spin out, and I hoped Gwen would be scared off by that. I know how crazy he gets when things set him off.”

“So… what happened?”

“He was furious. When Gwen asked him about it he didn’t flip out at her, though. I… underestimated what kind of an influence she had on him. He saved all that anger for me. He screamed at me, told me I was trying to ruin the best thing in his life, that I was a selfish bitch. He wasn’t wrong,” Victoria sighed bitterly. “He ended up telling me that he never wanted to see me again and that if he could, he’d go back in time and make it so that I’d never met him. So… yeah. I think I burned that bridge for good. That’s the story.”

“Victoria… I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Max. I just… if you want to go and tell Principal Wells that this whole thing is... fake, then you can. You’re not obligated to do this with me. I did drag you into it.”

Max’s mouth replied before her brain had time to process what she was even saying. “You didn’t drag me into it. This is a really good opportunity for the both of us, strange as it is. We’re in this together.” Unlike when she usually blurted out comments, however, there was no ‘oh shit’ moment that followed it. Max believed in what she had just said, crazy as it was. Crazy as she was. Crazy as the world was. “I can understand why you did it,” Max said, after a pause. “I have a... friend who moved away with another friend recently, and… that’s hard. You just want them back. I understand that.”

“Thank you, Max.” Victoria sniffed a tiny bit. Oh god. Was she crying? Max couldn’t see, but that hurt her heart. “Thanks for… everything.”

“Do you need a hug?”

Victoria was clearly taken aback by the question. “Uh… yes, actually.” The two sat up, and Max wrapped her arms around her. It was kind of an awkward hug, with them both leaned sideways and Max’s face buried in Victoria’s collarbone, but they somehow made it work. It went on for just a beat too long, but Max didn’t mind. Victoria was sweating, and Max could feel her heart beating under her shirt. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Shh..” God damn, that was one well defined collarbone. Maxine Caulfield, please control your raging bisexuality for five seconds. This is a serious situation and you don’t even like her like that. God.

They finally pulled away and lay back on their sides, facing each other. There was a pause and then Victoria asked “So. How are we going to fake a relationship?” She sounded under control again, her tone once more unreadable. 

“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t think we hate each other anymore, so at least that’s a start?” Max laughed a bit. She could smell the spearmint on Victoria’s breath from where she was. Did that bloody girl ever get bad breath? What did she do, sneak off and brush her teeth every five minutes? 

Victoria laughed too. “Yes, I suppose.” There was another pause. “I guess what it really comes down to, and do not make this weird, is… do you find me attractive?”

Max blinked, shocked by the question. It had hit her worse than all those bullshit jumpscares in Evil Dead last night. Did she find Victoria attractive? She thought of her hazel eyes, her perfect presentation in clothing choices, the collarbone she had recently almost sliced her face open on. What kind of a ridiculous question was that? “I don’t want to inflate your already over inflated ego, but, I’m pretty sure even the straight girls here find you attractive.”

Victoria laughed again. “Don’t make it about the straight girls of Blackwell, tell me what you think. We can’t fake it if the answer’s anything but--”

“If you’re coming on to me, this would have to be the most egotistical way I’ve ever--”

“Well we’re technically dating so, no need for that. Can I please have an answer?” Victoria was lighthearted, a smile audible in her words. They were both laughing, a bit awkwardly. She grabbed Max’s forearm, nothing aggressive about the move. God damn, her hand was warm. How had she gone from talking tearfully about Nathan to this?

“Yes! God! Yes! You are so weird!” Max started laughing despite herself, swatting Victoria’s hand away. She wished she could see her. “I am attracted to you, Victoria Chase. Jesus Christ!”

“Okay, well that makes it easy, then,” Victoria chuckled in the dark, clearly extremely pleased with herself. “I find you attractive too.”

“Liar. You only agreed to dating me because Wells was sitting there promising to kiss your ass.”

“Shit, how did you find out?”

“This is like a weird combination of flirting and stating the actual real facts, and it’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced.” Victoria cracked up when Max said that, making Max laugh too.

“Oh, who’s egotistical now?” 

Max shoved her. “Do you remember when you rubbed bread into my face last night? Like, an entire slice? And it was all in my eyebrows? I remember.”

“Do you remember changing your profile picture to your fucking head on top of a penguin to stress me out?”

“That was funny though!”

“Embracing the meme, right?” There was a fondness in Victoria’s tone as she said this.

“Hella.”

Victoria groaned loudly. “Why, of all people, did I get stuck in this situation with you? How many people at this school are there? And I get stuck with Maxine Caulfield. Ugh.”

“Max, never Maxine. Perhaps it was destiny, Victoria Maribeth Chase.”

“Oh god, no. Anything but that. Stop. Nope. No.” Victoria buried her face in her hands. “Fuck you. No.”

“Are we on nickname basis yet? ‘Victoria’ is way too much of a mouthful.” Max realised how that sounded as soon as she said it. “Wait-”

“Like you would know--”

“You’re disgusting--”

“I know, I know.” Another pause. Laughter. “Yes, Vic is fine. Or Tori, or whatever other horrible creation you can forge out of my name, I guess. You suck.”

“Do--” Max started to ask, but she never got to finish that sentence. As soon she she started, a light fell onto the tent.

“NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ON SCHOOL GROUNDS! YOU’VE BEEN RATTED OUT, GIRLS! GET OUT OF THIS TENT RIGHT THIS MOMENT! THAT'S AN ORDER!”

Max and Victoria looked at each other, finally able to see in the torch light. “Shit,” they both said simultaneously, then burst into hysterics. 

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce David Madsen, cockblock of the century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the really long wait, I legitimately have no excuse for that. 
> 
> I always forget to say, thank you all so much for your comments, it means a lot to me :) I want to reply but also I don't want to clutter the comments, so all I can say is thank you!
> 
> After I finish this (which may take a while) I was thinking of maybe re-writing this from Victoria's perspective. Would anyone be keen for that?


	6. Lesbian Wrath Can Also Be Found In Bisexual Women

School on Monday was every bit as awful as Max thought it would be. People would see her and start laughing and whispering, some of them kind, some of them not. Several people waved penguin toys at Max which were obviously salvaged from Victoria’s room -- she'd been giving them out like the plague. Even Mrs Grant gave Max a strange look, though Max wasn't sure if it was the look of disappointment or concern; perhaps a mixture of both. Max could be bad at reading facial expressions. 

Classes were the worst. Max, who had enough trouble concentrating already, found listening in completely impossible. Notes were tossed at her when teachers weren’t looking; she had the constant feeling of being watched and judged. Giggles followed her every move. Everyone wanted to know if it was true, if her and Queen Bitch were dating, did they really screw in a tent in the forest and get caught? 

There were rumours that Madsen had caught them naked, handcuffed together, a twelve-inch dildo onsite. Max’s knee jittered up and down constantly. Her anxiety was kicking up. Who the fuck would make up a rumour like that? Max knew that Victoria wasn’t exactly liked around the school, but she didn’t realise it was this bad. Or was it Max they hated?

Sometimes this was funny, but sometimes it was just sad.

Victoria sent her a text at midday: ‘this is hell’. Max thought that summed it up pretty well. Victoria’s name in her phone was now officially Icky Vicky, dubbed after Max saw the distasteful look on her face in the principal’s office that morning.   
They had unsurprisingly been called in to talk about why they were in that tent on a school night, though when both Max and Victoria insisted they’d just been talking, Principal Wells seemed to lose interest. It occurred to Max that Victoria’s parents were possibly a financial contributor to the school. Either way, Max knew the two of them had immunity.

‘We are the dead’, Max replied. 

‘ecept everyone is watching us not just big brother’. Okay, so she’d read 1984. That was one positive thing that day. ‘we need 2 make an announcement vid’, Victoria texted a few seconds after. 

‘Fessing up to the handcuffs?’

‘has anyone ever told u you’re the worst?’ 

‘Txt me afterschool we can work it out.’ Max saw a teacher’s disapproving glare and shoved her phone in her pocket. She mouthed an apology, and tried to focus on the algebraic equation she was supposed to be doing. It was a waste of effort but at least it looked productive. 

When lunch finally came, Max decided to find Warren. She felt a bit bad, ignoring him for a few days, but she guessed she had a good excuse. Plus he deserved to know the true story. Preferably not one that involved a twelve-inch dildo. 

When she found him, however, she found him in the middle of an intense conversation with Brooke. Max didn’t know what they were talking about, but she guessed it had to be something unbearably nerdy. Brooke was using her hands a lot. They were standing quite close together. 

“Hey guys,” Max said hesitantly. They both looked up.

“Hey Max,” Warren waved, looking a bit uncomfortable. His shirt had a tree on it, with the branches stretching out to form the word ‘HOPE’. Of course he would still be concentrated on saving the planet. Though Max was slightly concerned about just how many of those shirts he’d bought. “What’s up?”

“Why aren’t you with your girlfriend?” Brooke interjected, not in a friendly tone. Max wondered if she was mad about being ‘proven’ wrong about the Chasefield thing, or if she was just mad Max had interrupted her time with Warren. Max had seen the puppy dog eyes she’d made at him.

Fuck it. “I was getting too tired out from the hardcore BDSM,” Max replied, deadpan. “A girl can only take so much whipping.”

Warren burst out laughing, and Max smiled. Brooke just kind of blinked at her distastefully. Fuck you, then. “That was a joke, Brooke,” she added, her smile fading. Max wondered, randomly, how she looked. She’d showered that morning, but forgotten to condition her hair. She probably had dark rings under her eyes from lack of sleep. Had she slept in the shirt that she was wearing today? “By the way, uh, if you guys have heard stories about… whatever people think happened last night... Just so you know, nothing happened.”

“It’s Blackwell you have to convince, not us.” Brooke’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. What had pissed her off? It occurred to Max that Brooke hated Victoria, which set her off a bit.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Max bristled. “They’ll forget about it in a week anyway.” She was grateful there weren’t many people around. As many views as ‘Hipster VS Nerd BITCHFIGHT CHAOS’ would get on Youtube, Max preferred to pass on the starring role. 

“Really? I’ve heard you’re going to be appearing in a magazine together. PopVine, wasn’t it?” Brooke took a step closer to Max, her face a combination of distaste and mild aggression. Max felt a flicker of adrenaline ignite somewhere inside her. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be forgetting about that anytime soon. Such a lucky break for you, to have your ‘relationship’” --Max could hear the quotation marks in her voice-- “scandal be so news-grabbing. With Victoria Chase, even. Funny, I never thought she’d be your type.”

Okay, Max did SO not need this. “I never asked for this, Brooke. I never asked for any of this. This is confusing, and fucked up, and really, really awkward. I-”

“Oh, sure, you’re such a victim in this. You did agree to be in the magazine though, didn’t you?”

Warren shuffled uncomfortably. “Guys, please don’t fight,” he kind of mumbled, but Max and Brooke weren’t listening. Anger was rising inside Max like trapped air in a balloon. What the fuck was Brooke’s problem? Clearly she was jealous, but why did she have to take it out on her? 

“Yes, actually I did. What was I supposed to do, decline? I don’t care how jealous you are, this is my future career we’re talking about, I can’t just--”

“Can’t just fake a relationship with a rich girl with famous parents to boost your relevance?” Brooke’s smile grew and grew as she talked. “Next time, though, try not to pick the crazy bitch who everyone hates.” Max was surprised at how angry hearing that made her. “You know Nathan’s new girlfriend, Gwen? Victoria tried to strangle her ‘cause she was too jealous. I heard--”

Max slapped her. Hard. She didn’t think about hitting her before she did it; it just kind of happened. Her hand moved of its own accord. She didn’t regret it. 

Brooke blinked hard and touched her face. 

Warren just stared, shocked, his mouth hanging open but no words coming out. 

Max turned and walked off. Anger turned to a form of sadness, and her feet found their way back to her room. She locked the door to keep the world out and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, blinking tears but not quite crying. There was a pressure in her throat she wasn’t letting out. She kind of wanted to ring Chloe, but she also kind of didn’t want to talk to her or hear her voice at the same time. The girl would probably be busy, anyway. 

Brooke had pissed her off beyond belief. Maybe it was morally questionable to continue the ‘Chasefield’ for her future’s sake, but the way Brooke had portrayed it made Max feel dirty, guilty. Partially because Brooke had been right, in a way. But she had way overstepped with the strangling rumour. She’d been trying to upset her, Max knew, but that had been overkill. 

This wasn’t just a stupid highschool rumour, this was dangerous. Though Brooke hadn’t mentioned how long Victoria had supposedly strangled Gwen for -- Max had stopped that one in its tracks -- she knew you didn’t just strangle someone for shits and giggles. Strangling killed people. How much would someone have to piss you off for you to make up a rumour like that? Unless….

Unless this was Nathan’s revenge. It made sense, really. Victoria had clearly really upset him with the whole gay thing. Maybe he saw that as an equivalent of that? Max didn’t really know him, but everyone knew he was unstable and probably slightly dangerous. She wouldn’t put it past him.

Max sighed. She didn’t know what to make of it all. It was like a goddamn reality show around here.

She didn’t know at which point her sadness had turned into this state of observation, but she knew when her observing state faded away into tiredness.   
It was a sudden drop in mental facilities, the weighing down of her eyelids, the deep fatigue she thought she could feel in every muscle. She promised herself she’d only sleep for a few minutes because she had class soon, but when she closed her eyes the clock stopped and she dropped into unconsciousness as if off a cliff. 

 

* * * * *

 

“You talk in your sleep,” Victoria told her casually from the couch when Max woke up. Victoria was lying down, examining one of the seven penguins Max had stolen from her room, expressionless. Max was startled at first, but only at first. This was not the strangest thing to happen this week. 

“What time is it?”

“Almost three. You weren’t in class so I came here.” Victoria’s eyes didn’t move from the penguin in her hands. “This is so cheaply made. Whoever bought these bought them in bulk. And also would have had to have climbed through my window, which is… unsettling.” 

“I slapped Brooke today.”

“Good. Bitch thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“Do you think you’re better than everyone else?” The question wasn’t a challenge. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up more. Her mouth had that indescribably gross taste it gets when you’re exhausted but can't or won't sleep. How long had she slept for last night?

Pause. Victoria finally looked over and met Max’s eyes. “I think I’m in a constant state of simultaneously thinking I’m better than everyone and worse than everyone at the same time.” 

“Yeah, I feel that.” Max sighed, smiling despite herself. Today had sucked, but hanging with Victoria now, back to their chilled out banter, was a great de-stressor. She realised she actually enjoyed the other girl’s company. “How bad has your day been?”

“Hm. Let’s see. I was called a whore, had a drink spilled on me, oh, and I need to get the locks changed in my room because I found a twelve-inch dildo on my bed nestled in with all the penguins. It had a cute little bow tied around it and everything. Apart from that, though, my day has been pretty great. What about you?”

“Someone put a dildo in your room?” Max snorted. “That’s kind of really fucked up but also kind of funny. Do you think it was one of the girls here?”

“I don’t know. If it was coming from one of them it could be kind of funny. But, if it was someone like Logan, which it probably was…” Victoria screwed up her face. Max saw her point. “At least it was new. I think. The dildo, I mean.” 

“Do you think it was the same person who put the penguins in your room?” There was another question at the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t know if she dared ask it yet. 

“You mean Nathan?” Eye contact again. Max looked away, guilty. “I don’t think he’d do that. If he wanted revenge it would be by trashing my room or something. He’s a good photographer but he doesn’t have the creative flair to think of something like that.”

Max let it go. “Life is… so weird,” she sighed.

“Yes.”

There was another pause. They were both lying down, staring at the ceiling. Max felt like she could still sleep some more, but she didn’t want to sleep just now. Conversations with Victoria were usually worth staying awake for, she’d learned. Especially since she’d clearly wagged class to come see her. 

“This is extra weird because until Friday I don’t think I’d ever even had a proper conversation with you. And now you’re sitting in my room. And I think I like talking to you.” 

“Did you want to talk to me? Before this?” Victoria was smiling again, in the same way she had been last night: kind of smug and self-satisfied, but also playful and fond. It wasn’t the kind of smile one normally developed around someone after about three days of properly talking to them. It was a nice smile though. Her smiles used to be a rarity, Max remembered. Even yesterday in Principal Wells’ office, when she’d smiled at her it had taken Max off-guard. That seemed so long ago. There were a lot of things their camping trip had changed already between them. A wall had been broken somehow. They were more relaxed.

“No, I didn’t,” Max smiled back honestly. “You were a bitch. You talked a lot of shit about me, if I recall correctly.” This was a reference to one of the main theories for Chasefield -- that all Victoria’s shit talking, observably mostly about Max, had been a result of Victoria’s confused feelings toward her. Victoria narrowed her eyes and shot Max a death stare, making her giggle. 

“Eat a dick.” She looked like she was going to say something else, but stopped herself. “Um, so anyway, should we make an announcement video?”

“Saying what? That we’re together? Why a video?”

Victoria sprang to her feet, suddenly, and sat on the edge of Max’s bed. “I’m sitting on your bed,” she announced. “Videos can go viral. If we have a video we’ll have actual real life proof that it’s definitely us saying this.” The look they exchanged as she said this acknowledged The Facebook Heist Incident. “Plus, the people can get a feel for our chemistry.” She smirked at Max, who was now sitting up. “It doesn’t have to be a long video. A minute at the most. We can use my camera.”

Max noticed for the first time that Victoria’s camera bag was placed on her couch. “Yeah, that makes sense. What should we say?”

“Just that you’re absolutely head-over-heels in love with me but that’s expressed through romantic gestures rather than going on nude forest adventures?” Victoria cocked an eyebrow. Max pushed her, laughing.

“You wish we went on nude forest adventures.”

“I do, I truly do.” Victoria chuckled, standing up and grabbing her camera. It was black and looked hideously expensive. “Ready?”

Max smoothed down her hair with her fingers, hoping she looked okay, and gave Victoria a thumbs up. 

Victoria jumped back on the bed with the camera, flicked it on and switched it to video, then held it out in front of them with both arms. After a second of thought, she put an arm around Max’s shoulder. “Help me hold it,” she mumbled by Max’s ear, so Max held the camera on one side while Victoria held it on the other. “Sorry for murdering your personal space. This will look good, though. It’s positioned right.” Max didn’t mind her personal space being invaded. This was actually really comfortable, though Victoria’s nervousness was clear.

The video began. “Hello internet,” Max said. The video ended.

“No, Max. Just no.”

The video began again. This time Victoria launched in first. “Hey everyone, Victoria and Max here. We know there have been a lot of questions revolving around the exact nature of our relationship, so we’re here to clear it up.”

“We’re dating,” Max blurted, grinning widely from the absurdity of the situation and from Victoria in general. She’d sounded like a newsreader. 

“Well, yeah,” Victoria kind of stuttered, smiling too. Was she blushing? Her head rested against Max’s.

“We know there’s been a lot of rumours going around, ranging from funny to outright disgusting,” Max added, and Victoria interjected sternly:

“You know exactly which ones we mean!”

“Yeah,” Max laughed again. “Well, anyway, none of those are true. Except, you know, the ones that we’re dating.”

“Which, by the way guys: we’re dating. Like, dating dating.”

“Wait, Vic, do you think they know we’re dating?” They turned toward each other, Max faking deep thought but still unable to stop smiling. Victoria looked highly amused, though her cheeks were slightly pink.

“Hm… you know, I don’t think they do.” Victoria’s eyebrows narrowed comedically. In the sun, there were touches of green on the edges of her eyes, Max realised. 

Then, suddenly, Victoria kissed her. It was just a brief thing; her lips were on Max’s in a flash, lingered there for a second, and then retreated, leaving Max laughing, stunned, and completely red in the face. 

“I think they get the idea now.” Victoria looked extremely pleased with herself again, that smug smile threatening to overtake her face. She gave the camera a little wave, then stopped the video. 

“Um….” Max was out of words. Her brain had stopped working. 

“I had to make it look real.” Victoria didn’t apologise. Her arm was still around Max’s shoulders. There was a beat in which they didn’t talk, just sat there letting it soak in. Then Victoria leapt up and went for her camera bag, where she pulled out a cord. “Right, Facebook time. Can I use your computer?”

“Uh.”

“If we use my Facebook it’ll get more traffic, no offense. But I’ll tag you too, obviously. I’ll have to adjust the ‘relationship’ setting…” Victoria sat down at Max’s desk and plugged the camera into the laptop. Max watched her work, still stunned and unable to form a coherent sentence. She thought her heart would had stopped racing by now, but nope, apparently not. Why had Victoria kissing her thrown her off so much? Surely of all things that had happened lately, this should have been almost mundane. 

Was it that she’d now kissed someone who wasn’t Chloe? 

Had she liked kissing Victoria? 

She’d been to shocked to like it, she decided. Maybe it was the possibility that she could have liked it that shocked her?

Max sighed a bit, her brainpower regaining slowly, like a kettle boiling. Her own mind was a mystery to her.

“Uploaded. I’m so funny, guess what I captioned it.” 

“The gay agenda?” Max suggested, getting off the bed.

“Basically. No, it was ‘Maximum Victory’.” Victoria turned around in her seat, looking up at Max with that same smug smile. “Do you get it? Max and Vi--”

Max flicked her in the forehead, in between her eyebrows. It wasn’t a hard flick, but Victoria screwed her face up. Amused, Max flicked her again. 

“Ouch. Get out of here with your lesbian wrath.” Victoria put her hands on her head, so Max flicked the hands instead. “Stop it!”

“I’m bi, actually.” Max didn’t stop flicking. It was kind of therapeutic. 

“Lesbian wrath can also be found in bisexual women.” Victoria grabbed Max’s hands to stop the flicking. “Bitch.”

Max laughed. “Okay, sorry, I’ll stop. Are there likes on the video yet?”

They both turned to the computer screen. The video had been up for less than a minute, and it already had four likes. More were coming in the longer they watched. Comments were coming too -- the first comment was unsurprisingly from Taylor, who said ‘OMG THIS IS TYHE BEST THING IVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE LOVE YOU TORI!!!!’. They stared at the screen a bit longer, kind of talking and kind of just watching. Max’s brain was still a mess of thoughts and questions but she managed to keep up. By ten minutes, there were forty-three likes and seven comments. By fifteen minutes, there were seventy-eight likes and fifteen comments. It just kept rising. It was quite fascinating to watch. There were a lot of people frantically PMing Victoria too, though she was only replying to a very excited Taylor. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Victoria asked suddenly. She talked as she typed, which was almost an otherworldly feat to Max. Taylor seemed to want to see her right now judging from her message of ‘GURL MEET ME OUT FRONT NOW TELL ME EVERYTHNG’.

“Sleeping,” Max replied before she had time to think about the possible significance of the question. 

Victoria groaned. “This is me asking you out to eat somewhere. Or… whatever.”

Max thought a bit. She thought that if she closed her eyes right now she would definitely fall asleep. “Honestly, I really think I’m too tired tonight.” And I have a whole shitload of stuff to contemplate. “What about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date.” Victoria smiled, logging off on Facebook. “But also not. Hey, Taylor wants to see me now, she sounds… eager. So I’m gonna go.” 

“Yeah, okay. See you.” Victoria stood, touched Max’s arm as a goodbye, and turned to leave. She was almost out the door when Max remembered. “Wait.”

Victoria turned. “What?”

“I locked my room before I fell asleep. How did you get in?” 

Stunned Mullet Victoria made another glorious appearance. Max raised an eyebrow. Victoria opened her mouth and shut it, her cheeks pink. “Well?”

“I made a copy of your room key because I used to come in here and steal your cookies.” Victoria decided to gap it when she saw Max’s expression. “I’msosorrybyeseeyoutomorrow!” She yelled as she closed the door behind her. 

Max was left standing in her empty room, blinking. “God damn it, Victoria.”

And then, quietly, because it seemed like the right thing to say though she wasn't sure if she meant it or not: “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I accidentally wrote a 12-inch dildo into my story. No, there will not be a smut spinoff. You're all going to hell!
> 
> Also: some of you are probably judging my spelling. "Rumour", "realise" etc. I am not American so I spell things differently. Deal with it!
> 
> Once again thanks for the kudos and reviews, they mean a lot xxx


	7. Death By Dialogue

Max had thought that sleep would be easy that night, but, like everything else, it had to be complicated. She hated the feeling -- you could be absolutely on the brink of exhaustion until the light was switched off, but then with darkness came the wandering of thoughts, and with that…

Well, you thought of things. 

Things like Victoria. Things like Chloe. Things like rumours and school and photos and PopVine and saving the planet. 

But tonight, mostly Victoria. 

 

When she did finally sleep, Victoria was in her dreams too. They walked along the beach at night, talking about nothing in particular, insulting each other all the way. At some point the beach turned into a hybrid of a beach house and a supermarket, where they raced around in trolleys and an elderly lady, possibly Max from the future, yelled at them not to get sand on the carpets. There was some distortion in the middle in which Max wasn't quite sure what happened, but it ended with Max and Victoria back on the beach, staring out across a sky full of stars. 

Victoria turned and asked, “If I kissed you, what colour would it be?”

“Green,” Max replied, then promptly woke up. 

She lay in bed for a bit after waking, trying to stay awake and process what weird shit her brain had come up with that night. She kind of half-expected to see Victoria sitting on her couch, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Okay, that was good. Probably. 

Now all she had to do was untangle the weird, semi-sexual mess her mind had turned into since yesterday. No problem.

Max thought about it as she brushed her teeth and got changed. Today, she was feeling rebellious so she decided to mix it up and wear her usual shirt and jeans… without the jacket. Her shirt was a very light orange colour, with a messily drawn ‘artistic’ smiley face on it. Not that Max was paying attention to that, of course. Her mind kept repeating the possibilities of the weird situation she was in, playing it over and over like a broken record. Was it possible for Max to like Victoria in that way? Was she just lonely? Was she trying to get over Chloe? 

Why did this all have to be so complicated? 

There were more and more questions the more Max thought about it. She thought that maybe a part of her could like Victoria in that way, but she didn’t think she did, at least not yet. She didn’t want to just use her for emotional validation. And most importantly, what were Victoria’s motives? What had she seen the kiss as? Did she take it seriously or did she just do it for the video? 

“Max Caulfield: Ruiner of everything since 1995,” Max muttered under her breath. Then she sighed, grabbed her bag, and started walking to her first subject of the day -- English AP. The fact that Victoria would be there was one of the only things she could think of as she walked. Would she sit with her? Would that be awkward? Would people comment so much if they were together? What had the video changed? Over six hundred likes and almost a hundred (mostly) positive comments later, Max had to admit that Victoria was right about making a video. Since the two of them had addressed it, slightly less people were giving the relationship attention, which was exactly what Max had wanted. Though she did have to deal with one very awkward phone call from her mother, who she’d forgotten to keep updated. 

 

When she got to English, all her worries about where to sit melted away when she saw Victoria had saved her a seat. Not that she needed to bother; nobody sat at that table apart from her and Taylor. Their English AP class was relatively small, the room very warm, filled with mostly females and the strange smell of boiled cabbage. Their teacher, Mrs Hoida, was thankfully late. 

“Caulfield,” Victoria nodded. She looked great as ever, wearing a sleeveless blue blouse that was probably worth more than Max’s life. Taylor grinned widely at the two of them, clearly excited her ship was sailing. A large portion of class attention seemed to be directed to them as well now the two of them were in the room, but Max ignored them. Tried to, anyway. She hated being watched. 

“Ew, what are you doing here?” Max sat down, pulling a face. She was trying to figure out if the butterflies in her stomach were anxiety or not. She was pretty damned nervous, so... “Don’t you have places to be?”

“Not until six tonight. Or are we making it seven?” Of course. They were getting dinner together that night. Max had already thought of about three million ways that could go horrifically wrong.

“I’ll have to ask my boyfriend. You’re okay if I bring him?”

Victoria looked at her and blinked in an I’m-so-not-amused way. Now that Max had noticed the green at the edges of her eyes, she couldn’t un-notice it. “Only if he wishes to be castrated.” 

Max, ever elegant and attractive, managed to choke on spit laughing at that, and ended up having a mild coughing fit. “Gross!” she managed, aware of the irony.

Victoria laughed at her, not unkindly, scrunching her face up. Okay, so that was adorable. “You’re gross.” 

Mrs Hoida entered the class at that moment, with her traditional cry of “Good morning, scholars!” and the class suddenly went silent. Max tried to stem the flow of her coughing. They weren’t scared of Mrs Hoida; the silence was out of respect.

If you crossed an elderly librarian with a biker, then you may end up with someone like Mrs Hoida. She was a short, painfully thin English lady perhaps in her mid forties, with grey, spiked up hair, scholarly glasses perched down on her long nose, and a gold ring in one ear. She tended to wear floral dresses in mild pastel colours, which today was no exception -- the dress of today was one she seemed to favour lately, light yellow flowers on a light blue background. When Max had first seen her, she had felt sorry for her, imagining just what kind of hell her students must put her through. Later she learned that Mrs Hoida was widely considered to be one of the coolest teachers in the school. 

“Right, I hope you all brought your copies of Macbeth… before I sit down and get comfortable, has anyone forgotten their copy? There’s always one.”

Max looked in her bag. Shit. “Um… me. Sorry.”

Mrs Hoida flailed her arms in the air dramatically, drawing a few laughs. “Like I said, always one.”

“It’s okay Mrs Hoida, she can share mine,” Victoria piped up, waving her copy gently in the air. Max went to grab it but Victoria snatched it away.

“Oooh,” one of the girls at the back couldn’t stop herself, and there were a few giggles. 

“Eat shit, Stephanie,” Victoria called behind her.

 

That more or less set the tone for the entire lesson. While Mrs Hoida launched into an in-depth explanation about how the events in Macbeth are an exemplar of the Great Chain of Being and what exactly that meant to Shakespearean society, Max and Victoria continued to communicate in their small, offending ways. Max got the new sense that Victoria was doing exactly what Max was doing: poking, prodding, testing. Observing. Trying to figure out the situation. Trying to figure out Max as well, she realised. Their insulting skills with each other were getting slowly more and more savage as time went by, and Max had to admit she was loving that. She had a feeling Victoria appreciated that too; someone who could take what she was throwing at them and give it back with a vengeance. Was this how she was around her friends?

One of Victoria’s new favourite things to do was find a verse in Macbeth and decide that it was secretly about Max. She spent almost the whole time they were together trying to find appropriate verses, seeming to take an endless amusement to the various different quotes she could find. 

“Max!” She would whisper, sharply. She developed a habit of getting too close to Max’s ear before speaking, chuckling smugly at how the other girl jumped. Double points when Max got goosebumps.

After having endured almost an hour of Victoria’s shit, Max would reply, “Nope.”

“I’ll read it out, ready--?”

“Fuck off, Victoria.”

“Here. ‘You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so.’” There was a pause in which Victoria cocked an eyebrow victoriously, trying not to laugh at her own shitty joke. Max groaned. 

“...I don’t know if you’re implying that I’m a lesbian and have a boyfriend, or that I have facial hair, but either way... that was really weak.”

“Beards, Max.”

“I think I actually hate you.” 

But she didn’t mean it, and they both knew it. 

 

When the lesson finally ended and Mrs Hoida dismissed them with her usual “Be safe and make good choices, scholars!” Victoria decided that Max should walk her to their next class, Language of Photography. She informed Max of her wishes by grabbing her hand and pulling it. It felt weird, walking through the hallways with Victoria’s hand in hers, yet strangely peaceful. They didn’t really talk; just walked. There were a few wolf whistles but otherwise people seemed respectful. Max saw that the battle against global warming was still raging judging by the new posters on the wall; the beach protest that Max had heard about earlier was now officially scheduled for this weekend. It was nice, seeing that. Like natural order was slowly taking over, just as it did when Macbeth was killed (spoiler alert). She would probably be expected to go to the beach protest with Victoria. There were worse things she could think of.

 

They were almost in class when Nathan found them. 

All the happiness and lightheartedness of the morning so far faded away like a mirage in a dream. 

Nathan looked as though someone had painted his blood grey. That was the simplest way to put it. Max could tell from the bags under his eyes that he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was as untidy and greasy looking as the clothes he was wearing. There was nothing about him that was composed or deliberate anymore -- Max was aware she was looking at nothing but the raw, animal personification of Nathan Prescott’s mental health. Max and Victoria froze when they saw him. Victoria flinched when he spoke.

“You fucking bitch,” Nathan said. His voice was empty of anything but the basic sounds required to form a coherent sentence. Max felt an immediate bolt of adrenaline. Beside them in the hallway, other students scuttled nervously away, trying to escape the sudden drama. They saw what Max saw in Nathan, which was a terrifying nothingness. 

Victoria dropped Max’s hand as though it had bitten her. “Nathan,” she warned, her voice already thick with emotion. But she didn’t know what else to say, so for a while he stared the two of them down, his eyes piercing yet sightless at the same time, head tilted to the left. 

Finally, surprisingly, he addressed Max. “She’s fucking crazy, you know that?” A nod in Victoria’s direction. He talked very slowly.

Max stared at him. She was trying to control her breathing. How the fuck had her day changed so quickly?

Nathan didn’t seem overly concerned by Max’s lack of reply. “You need to stay away from her. She’s. I mean. Fuck.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “She hurts people.”

“Nathan,” Victoria warned again. She voice reminded Max of how her mother had sounded the day her uncle died: defeated, devastated. Like bits of her were breaking off. “Nathan, I--”

“Shut the FUCK UP!” The volume in his voice was mechanical, as though he was simply a machine someone had turned up the volume on. Almost nobody else was in the hallway now. There was almost a suggestion of emotion in the curl of his lips, the blackness of his eyes, but it was swallowed away by the rest of him. Max thought that perhaps if she stood too close she would be stretched out and reduced to nothingness, the first recorded human death via black hole. 

“She tried to kill my girlfriend, did you know that?” He was talking to Max again. Max's heart rate increased another few notches. So the rumour was true? “Wrapped her... fuckin’ hands around her throat. And tried to kill her. Kill her.”

“Nathan, that never happened,” Victoria told him softly. A quick glance in her direction revealed the girl’s eyes were streaming tears, her facial expression as broken as her voice. Shit. “You know I would never do that.” Listening to Victoria was the hardest part of this.

“I do not know you.” Nathan was pointing at her again, his hands still shaking. Victoria shut her eyes tight and pinched the bridge of her nose. Max flinched when he switched his attention back to her. “You. Be careful. She… lies. A lot. And… dangerous.” His thoughts were cooling down and dissipating, fragmenting. He stared at the two of them a little more, though what he was really looking for Max wasn’t sure, before turning and walking away. Max listened to the pounding of his footsteps as he left the building. The bell rang and she flinched. Victoria breathed in a sob. 

Well, shit.

Max, not knowing what else to do, awkwardly tried to hug Victoria, but Victoria pulled away violently. “Sorry,” Max mumbled.

“Just… go to class, Max.” Victoria turned and power-walked down the length of the corridor, past their class, in the opposite direction Nathan had gone. 

As they had with Warren on that fateful Friday night, Max’s fingers itched absurdly to take a photo of Victoria as she left. But once again she didn’t.

Max wondered yet again what the hell she had gotten herself into.

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

Max ghosted through the rest of her classes that day as if they were nothing more than light background music. Teachers and friends and work all just faded into nothingness; she was so confused by what had just happened and what that implied that she physically couldn’t think of anything else. She tried to ring Chloe at lunch, but Chloe was busy, so she waited until after school. Victoria did not appear for the rest of the school day. Max didn’t know what she thought about that. She didn’t know what she thought about anything anymore. 

The second the bell rang at four, Max raced out of her Media Literacy class and headed for her dorm room to call Chloe in privacy. She again almost expected Victoria to be sitting in her room when she opened the door, but all there was was Lisa. 

When was the last time Max had watered her?

Max grabbed a bottle and poured it on the plant, though she stopped when she smelled it. Lemonade? Did she just pour lemonade on Lisa? Apparently so. Nice to know that she had officially failed as a human being. 

Wait, she was getting off-track. She needed to ring Chloe. 

She got her phone out and dialed the number. Chloe answered on the fifth ring. 

“Hey Mad Max, how’re the lady problems going? You two married yet?” Max could see Chloe’s shit-eating grin through the phone as clearly as she could see sunlight. It was so good to hear her voice.

“Um,” Max replied. 

Within a few minutes she’d told Chloe everything: Nathan’s accusation, how crazy he looked, how upset Victoria was, how she’d previously heard the strangling rumour but hadn’t thought it was true. “...Why can’t anything just be simple?” Max asked, after a moment of silence on the line. She was feeling close to tears, her mind so incredibly fried from the mental gymnastics of yet another weird situation.

“Okay, so. This is definitely kind of fucked,” Chloe said slowly, still processing everything Max had told her. “So, uh, do you think Icky Vicky did it? Strangled the chick, I mean? I wouldn’t have thought she’d have it in her.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought so either. But Nathan looked so… dead. He came all the way into school to warn me. That has to mean something, right?”

“Could it have been some kind of paranoid delusion? Cause he has a reputation for being real fucked up, right?”

Max had thought of that. “What about Brooke? She wouldn’t believe something unless there was proven evidence. And she seemed pretty convinced. Unless she was just trying to upset me, but that doesn’t seem like her style.” 

“Yeah, fuck.” Chloe paused. “Something is really off about this situation. Really fucking off.”

“Illuminati confirmed.” Max had said this dryly, but Chloe barked out a laugh nonetheless. 

“Well, you need to talk to Icky Vicky, otherwise you won’t be able to trust her. But... the only way I can think of that’ll fill in the last puzzle piece for you is to talk to the… what’s her name? The strangled chick?”

“Gwen?” Oh, god. Max felt like such an idiot. Why had that not occurred to her before? It was the only logical thing to do. Praise the lord for Saint Chloe.

“Gwen, attagirl. Talk to her. But just be constantly aware everyone is possibly lying their asses off. Trust no one!”

“Thanks, Chloe. I… I never even thought of asking Gwen.”

“Well shit girl, that’s why you have me! Though you’re gonna have to step your game up if you’re gonna become Blackwell’s new detective. I’m hella jealous, honestly. Most exciting thing to happen to me all week was some huge guy fainted getting a neck tattoo, shit, you shoulda seen it…”

They talked a little longer, about the tattoo parlour, and how Chloe’s life was going, and how Rachel got a new modelling gig for a toothpaste brand that “tastes like Satan’s minty ballsack”. Max found she didn’t mind talking about Rachel so much anymore; there were more important things to worry about, she guessed. Phone calls with Chloe were too precious to waste resenting Rachel.

 

After Max had gotten off the phone, she looked at the time. Half past four. She had an hour and a half until she was expected to go to dinner with Victoria, which she was now determined to make happen. She had to get answers. 

She reapplied her deodorant and brushed her hair a bit in the mirror. 

Then she went and knocked on Victoria’s door.

No reply. She knocked again.

“Go away!” Victoria called out. She sounded tired. Max vaguely remembered saying the same thing to Victoria the morning after the party.

Max opened the door and walked in. Victoria was sitting on her bed hugging her knees, her eyes puffy like she’d been crying. There were still heaps of penguins in her room, though they’d been mostly shifted to the back. 

“Hey,” Max said, gently. 

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m just great.”

Max sat on the bed next to her. Victoria paused, then rested her head on top of Max’s head. Max still didn’t know how that was suddenly normal for the two of them. “I don’t think I hurt her,” Victoria murmured, after a very long pause. “Gwen. I don’t actually know.” She had a mild floral scent on today. Looks like she’d sensed Max would want to talk about this first. 

“You don’t think?”

“....I was very drunk. And mad. I get stupid when I’m drunk. As you know.”

“Was this when you told her Nathan was gay?”

“I remember that part.” 

“Why were you drunk? Were you two at a party?”

Victoria stiffened slightly. “No… I was drinking on my own. Look, I know how pathetic this sounds, but I’ve stopped doing that now. It was just for a while, when things got bad. With Nathan and everything.”

Max wasn’t judging. She thought of herself on Friday night, when she was all wound up about Chloe and Rachel and alcohol had seemed like the only escape. “It’s okay.” Another slight pause. “Nathan really upset you today, didn’t he?”

“He looks so awful.” Max knew immediately from Victoria’s sudden emotion that this was what was really on her mind. “Ever since we stopped talking, maybe a bit before that too. He’s so sick right now. Nobody’s going to help him. He’s disassociating. Things are getting worse and worse with him and I don’t know why, I don’t know if it’s my fault or what’s happening, I don’t know if Gwen’s helping him or if she doesn’t know how to or what his father is doing about it, and nobody’s telling me anything because I fucked up so bad by being jealous.” Victoria paused. Her emotions were under control this time, but she was clearly unhappy. “This is the second time I’ve made you listen to my shit, I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. This is a really awful situation.” Max shifted slightly, to be more comfortable. “What… what’s Gwen like?”

“She was lovely. Really supportive, really caring, always doting on Nathan like I never could.” Victoria laughed. “Fucking bitch.”

“Who? Me?”

“Her. She was too good to be true, but somehow she was. True, I mean. She was so good for Nathan that it hurt. You know how that is, right?”

“Yeah. That was how it was for Chloe and Rachel. Well, Rachel wasn’t perfect, but she was for Chloe. She helped her so much.”

“Yes.” Victoria was quiet for a while, and the two of them sat there leaned against each other, thinking of nothing in particular. Then Victoria sat up suddenly and said, “Come on, we’re going for a drive.”

“A drive? Where to? In your car?” Max sat up too, flexing her arm, which had gone numb.

“Yes. There’s a place I want to show you.” Victoria, standing up now, towered down on Max. “You trust me not to crash the car or sell you off as a mail order bride?”

"Do I have a choice?"

"Absolutely not."

Max considered this for a fraction of a second and then stood up, unable to stop smiling.

“Lead the way, Icky Vicky.”

“I hate you, Max.”

But she didn’t mean it, and they both knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, up to this point I know my style of "plot writing" this has basically been the literary equivalent of going "what does this button do?" and slamming my head into the controller, but I promise now there's going to be some actual plot development, shitty as it may be. Don't freak out though, because it is still going to be gay as hell and still keep having those weird little moments some people find funny!
> 
> On another note: my exams start next week, so if I'm slow to update then feel free to hunt me down and murder me. Please. I will be waiting.
> 
> Have a great day, beautiful people :)


	8. Lights, Camera, Girl-On-Girl Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is one gay chapter, prepare yourselves

Darkness enveloped the car all around as they drove further and further into the forest, civilisation swallowed up and forgotten like a wisp of a dream. Though the temperature had dropped considerably Victoria seemed to be warm enough, her window fully down and an elbow dangling outside. Max still had no idea where they were going. Whenever she asked, Victoria would just smile in that smug way of hers and give some nonsense reply -- “The hipster shop for a refund” was her favourite. Distance from the Bay seemed to relax the girl, sculpt a real smile on those divisive lips, slowly loosening what had been an iron grip on the creamy leather of the steering wheel. Max spent a lot of the drive watching Victoria’s hands. It was strangely calming, as was the feeling of relaxing in this ridiculously expensive car, knowing she had the power to reduce Arcadia Bay to nothing but a memory if she chose.

When the lunatics had taken over the asylum, sometimes you needed to get the hell out.

Victoria’s hands were perfectly manicured, and they burned into Max’s memory. They were adorned with a few rings, a light cream nail polish, and a small freckle on her right thumb Max had never noticed before. She felt something close to horror that even half an hour ago she’d believed those hands were capable of harming another person. The girl was a pain in the ass, sure, but not a homicidal pain in the ass. Drunk or not, Brooke’s conviction or not, Max trusted her gut. She wanted to believe it was just all that Blackwell hype that had made her thinking so skewed, but she knew it really centered around Nathan. Whatever happened next, it would involve him, a concept Max found highly alarming.

However, it would also involve Victoria, and Max’s feelings around this were getting more complicated by the minute. 

Right on cue, as if she could sense Max’s thoughts about her, Victoria asked “What are you thinking about?”

“Um, men,” Max blurted. 

Victoria shot her an unimpressed look. Her eyes were still slightly puffy and red from crying before, but she could apparently still raise one’s blood pressure with a single glance. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly. “Blasphemy,” she said flatly.

“I repent.” Max looked away, hoping this disguised her blush. “Um, how close are we?” Outside the forest was silent and impassive, unconcerned about the polished yellow intruder Victoria was steering through its depths. She could smell the pine and decomposition. 

Victoria paused, clearly trying to repress some smart-assed reply. “Almost there. A few more minutes, I think.” 

“Cool.”

 

The car eventually found its way down a snaking gravel pathway closed off by an unlocked fence. When Max finally stepped out of the car she found herself staring up at an apologetic-looking old building, cloaked in shadow and softened with age. Weeds matted the small decorative gardens to its sides and clumps of dark moss kissed the curves of its decidedly still-standing roof. It was a large building, though how large Max couldn’t judge just from the front. There was a modest character to its structure in a way she couldn’t explain; the long, smashed in windows which curved at the top; the jutting roof over the entrance extended as if in a tentative welcome. It was clear the place had not been functional for a very long time. Entering it would almost be a form of time travel in itself. 

Max’s camera was in her hands before she could even think. Victoria nodded approvingly. “Mm. It does have that effect.”

Max had no words. She got out and snapped a few different pictures, making sure to get a variety of perspectives. Her best shot was one that included Victoria’s car, the gleam of its polished yellow bumper and a hint of windscreen over which the building towered. You hear a lot of bullshit as you go through life, but it’s moments like this when you start to understand how cliches become cliches. Like realising you were holding your breath, or finding beauty in the mundane. 

The fact that Victoria had been the one to take her here -- elegant, groomed, queen-bee Victoria -- probably contributed to that. The idea of the socialite-in-the-making walking up those water-swollen steps, standing under that jutting entrance and feeling what Max felt… well, that seemed alien. 

After the silence reached its expiry date, Victoria took Max’s hand wordlessly, as she had in the corridor that morning. The action unlocked another cliche: butterflies in her stomach. 

“Is it safe to go in?” Max asked. 

“Yes.”

“Can we?”

“Yes.”

Victoria led the way. Only one of the double doors stayed upright, rotting on its hinges, so entering was a simple matter of walking over its collapsed twin. Inside, the scent of the forest was distorted by the smell of old plaster, soggy wood, emptiness. The first room was a relatively small one. Stanchions guiding imaginary crowds in a curving maze towards the two dusty desks upon which ancient cash registers sat, petulant. The carpet, once red with an interesting orange and brown geometric pattern, was caked in dust and decay. Faded posters adorned the walls, showing old painted-picture advertisements for long-closed stage shows -- Hamlet, Lady Windermere’s Fan, a few others Max had never heard of.

When Max was done looking around here, Victoria led her down a long corridor decorated in a similar fashion. 

“Okay, this is it,” Victoria murmured when they were almost at the end. “This is what I really want you to see. It's beautiful.”

Max could think of other beautiful things at the moment, but she only nodded and allowed herself to be led. 

She saw what she expected to see, yet her breath was still taken away. 

The final room was an old theatre. Hundreds of red fabric chairs stood facing the stage, all of them uncomfortable looking and caked in dust. The galleries looming at the back of the room held chairs also, though at least half had been extracted like long-rotten teeth. The stage itself was a big blank space, the curtain removed, leaving it open and bare. Some of the railing above had fallen down. Sunlight streamed down in a beam from the centre of the room, where the roof had partially caved in. Max could see the dust motes in the air, could feel the residue of power this room had once produced. She was once again completely at loss for words.

A flash from her side. Max jumped a bit. Victoria lowered Max’s camera, smiling again in that smug way of hers. Icky Vicky: pickpocket extraordinaire. “Sorry, I had to capture that expression. You’ll thank me later.”

“This place is incredible.” Max felt a rush of almost violent affection towards Victoria. She loved her in that moment. 

“It is,” Victoria agreed, still smiling. There was a pause where they just looked at each other and grinned. Victoria looked like she wanted to say something more. But she didn't, so Max did. 

“So… How did you find it? This place?”

“It was a pet project of my Great Uncle Balthasar.” The look they exchanged at this was priceless. “I couldn't make this shit up if I tried,” Victoria shoved Max’s shoulder as the brunette cracked up. “From what I heard, the place was pretty popular for a while, until suddenly it was too far out and nobody could be bothered coming anymore.” She glanced upward to the partially collapsed ceiling, frowning without malice. “Why the hell he built it way out here, I have no idea. My father mentioned the place to me once, so next time I needed an escape I decided to see if it was still standing.” She looked back down at Max and shrugged. “And here it is.” 

Max hadn't stopped laughing through this whole speech. Of course Victoria’s family owned this place. Of fucking course. “Are you okay if I take, like, a million pictures here?”

Victoria’s raised her eyebrows, which did things to Max's body. “As long as I’m in some of them.”

“You’ll be in all of them,” Max promised.

They were both smiling so much. 

 

* * * * *

 

They were there for a few hours, taking pictures and exploring around. The theatre was full of little surprises -- a mouse skeleton showered with flakes of dried paint, for example, and an elderly bowler hat they found long forgotten under a seat. 

As they explored, Max got the feeling that there was something Victoria wanted to tell her. There was an air of distractedness about the girl, a silence at the end of her sentences she seemed to want to fill but couldn’t. Max didn’t push it. She thought she knew anyway. The sexual tension between them was so thick she could have cut it with a knife. 

When it started getting dark she suggested they head back to the car, which she knew instinctively would get Victoria to spit it out already. The suggestion worked like a charm. 

“Um… hey, before we go, I have to ask something.” Victoria bit her tongue and studied Max’s face, visibly nervous all of a sudden. 

They were on the upper stands, lying down on the chairless part on a plastic sheet Victoria had put there some weeks ago. They had been sorting out all the pictures Max took, which as promised featured Victoria in just about every single one of them. Max had complained she was going to run out of film, but they both knew she didn’t mind. There were far worse things to waste film on, Max decided, as she studied Victoria’s face in return. The level of amusement she drew from how flustered Victoria was getting by this was through the roof. What was left of the roof, anyway. “Ask away.”

Victoria asked the question slowly, still studying Max’s face. “What... what am I to you?” Max’s heart rate increased immediately, but it was more of a rush than nervous fear.

She paused, trying to be honest. “I don’t know.” There was another pause. She knew what was coming. “What would you like to be?”

Victoria took a deep breath, and then suddenly, she was kissing her again. It wasn’t at all like yesterday. This time Victoria was rough and breathless and she didn’t pull away. Max responded before she could even think, pulling Victoria on top of her and reciprocating just as strongly. The pictures were forgotten on the ground in an instant. When Victoria’s tongue slipped aggressively into her mouth Max didn’t flinch, only moved her own tongue to accommodate. One of Victoria’s hands moved to grip a fist of Max’s hair, drawing a sharp gasp, so Max bit down hard on Victoria’s lip. The move was unthinking; she simply reacted. She hadn't thought her heartbeat could be any faster before that part. Her hands clawed feverishly at the back of Victoria’s neck, snaked up the back of her blouse to scratch at her back. Victoria moaned softly into Max’s mouth. Max couldn't remember the last time she’d enjoyed something half as much. This was what not thinking was. This felt fucking great. 

Victoria’s hands moved down to unzip Max’s jeans, at which point Max knew she wasn't ready. She pulled away with considerable regret, hating the resigned way the other girl sighed at this. 

“No?” Victoria asked teasingly. Victoria was panting slightly, looking frustrated in more way than one though still managing a smile. Her cheeks were pink, a bead of red growing on her bottom lip.

“I’m not saying no,” Max said quickly, panting herself. “Just… not right now.” She paused, but Victoria didn’t say anything, so Max kept talking. “I don’t want to do anything either of us will regret. Or move too fast with anything. The last person I did this with, it… it didn’t end like how I wanted it to, and I’m still working through that, I guess. Do you know what I mean?” This was a hard speech for Max to make when there was nothing more she felt like doing than jumping right back on Victoria, but she knew it was right. When a door closes, a window opens… or something like that, but you had to fully shut the door first. 

Victoria nodded slowly, frowning. Then she asked, “But, I mean, you liked it?” 

Her facial expression was so nervously hopeful, her brow furrowed and her lip pulled in at the side as she bit it. Max had to laugh. She pulled Victoria in again tight and kissed her, pressing her forehead to hers after and grinning like an idiot with her eyes closed. 

“I’ll put you down as a ‘maybe’,” Victoria murmured, drawing laughs from the two of them.

 

* * * * *

 

Later, in the car on the way back, as shadows whipped around them with the wind and the lights of Arcadia Bay glowed distantly like a mirage in a dream:

“How long have you wanted to do that for?” Max asked, staring ahead at the road. She didn’t have to spell out which “that” she meant.

Victoria actually snorted. “Do you remember our first conversation?”

“No?”

“I came up to you sometime in the first week. You were sitting at your table zoning out with your camera. I said, ‘Is that your camera?’ and you said, ‘Yeah.’ So I said, ‘I’m surprised that old thing still works. Maybe if you sold it to a museum you’d have enough money to actually pay the tuition fees.’ Because I stalked you online and knew you got a scholarship to come here. And do you remember what you said? I couldn’t stop thinking about it for like a week.”

Max laughed, confused. “I don’t remember this conversation at all.”

“‘Oh.’”

“What?”

“‘Oh.’ You just said ‘Oh.’ It threw me off.”

“How did that… what?”

“Because you didn’t respond. You didn’t care. You just said--”

“Just said ‘Oh’--”

“--yes, you just said ‘Oh.’”

Max thought about this for a second. Then she said, “Did you know you’re one of the strangest people I’ve ever met?”

“Oh,” Victoria said, smiling.

 

* * * * *

 

They were in the middle of dinner in town when the text came in.

Max didn’t dare try to pronounce the name of the place, but it was lovely. The tables were lit with tall red candles that matched the plush velvet of the seats, the floor a polished dark brown wood. The walls were covered in a curving curtain-like fabric that rippled and caught the candlelight at different angles, to the extent of being almost ethereal. Victoria insisted on paying for everything, which sparked a conversation they had in low tones about the world’s youngest lesbian sugar daddy -- “Well, lesbian with some exceptions,” Victoria shrugged, winking flirtatiously at one of the paintings on the wall, which for whatever reason depicted an elderly bearded man dressed as a nun. Max found herself laughing at everything Victoria said. Their legs brushed under the table. Victoria’s eyes were so warm. 

When the food came, it was amazing. They were too fancy to serve burgers, so Max got the rich person’s equivalent of a steak and salad, which was marinated and seasoned with more things Max couldn’t pronounce. It was presented more like a piece of artwork than food. Victoria, visibly amused, ordered the same. They ate and smiled some more and talked in those same low tones, and Max decided that this was absolutely one of the best things in the world.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. 

“Tell your mother you’re busy,” Victoria snorted, raising her eyebrows when Max pulled a face. “Unless it’s the nun man. If it’s the nun man, give me his number.”

Max pulled her phone out and blinked hard at the simple message that blared there on the screen. It wasn’t her mother, or even the nun man. She read it again to make sure, confused and mildly alarmed.

“What is it?” Victoria asked, reading into Max’s facial expression. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s Gwen.” Max looked up, bewildered. “She wants to meet up with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it was gay
> 
> Sorry for the blueballs
> 
> Side Note: The Chasefield community seems to have decided that Max and Victoria are total kinky fucks, and I would just like to say I deeply support and encourage this. Thank you and goodnight


	9. Back At It A-Gwen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry for the late ass update, exams are finished and this chapter was a real bitch to write. A lot of it is plot set up, it's a very short chapter, probably boring as hell, but there's still some hella gay moments and funny stuff thrown in. Hope you enjoy :)

Max still remembered the fight, though she couldn’t remember who started it. 

She remembered the hoarse, hysterical way Chloe had screamed at her, the accusatory tone she had taken when she proclaimed Max had never cared about her, had never cared about anyone but herself. Max remembered screaming back, telling Chloe to fuck off with Rachel and never come back, remembered crying so hard she thought her heart would stop. The room stank of weed, the posters on the walls of Chloe’s bedroom seeming to glare at them, silently judging the situation. 

Her most vivid memory of the night was of Chloe’s eyes. 

From that day on, Max had decided that only blue eyes could do that, could freeze you and alienate you in that way. Could make her feel as small and sick and hurt as she had that night. It made sense in a way; blue was the colour associated with the cold, with oceans. Though they’d both apologised afterwards and promised they’d never fight like that again, those eyes burned blue fire into her memory, erasing all other colours. 

Then Max had met Christopher. 

“How are you, Max?” Gwen asked pleasantly. Like they were old friends. Her voice echoed around the massive parlor room, magnified against the polished marble. 

Gwen Stuart, notorious new rich girl and missing puzzle piece sat opposite to Max on a gorgeous red leather couch, wearing a figure-hugging black dress, her auburn hair hanging around her shoulders like a breath of hot air. Her eyes, though blue, had all the warmth and good humour of a bonfire by the beach. She possessed a defined charisma, a friendliness that Max found encouraging. Gwen gave off the air that she’d known you all her life from the moment she met you.

The same could not be said for her brother, Christopher, who sat next to her silently, watching Max with the clinical intensity of a surgeon in an operating theatre. It was his eyes that reminded Max so strongly of Chloe’s on that terrible night, though they were coloured a brown so dark they appeared black. 

Realising she’d been asked a question, Max blinked and stammered, “Um, yeah, I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” She still didn’t know why she was here or what Gwen wanted with her, but damn, she was interested to find out. She had counted three chandeliers and one indoor spa so far, and she wasn’t even that far into the house. How rich were these people?

“My brother and I are fine, thank you, Max.” Gwen beamed at her and took a sip of tea. “Just concerned about the situation we’re in. I’m sure you’ve heard about what’s been going on.” 

Max shifted uncomfortably in her seat, all too aware she was sitting opposite the girl that her (girlfriend? Friend? Friend-with-benefits?) had potentially strangled. She still didn’t believe Victoria would do it, though it was harder to believe that now Gwen was sitting across from her. Looking at the warm, welcoming girl in front of her, she could instantly see why she and Victoria wouldn’t have gotten along. Victoria would have been too aloof, too judging, too cautious for the two to ever see eye to eye. 

“Life has been pretty strange lately,” Max said lamely. Gwen laughed like Max had said something funny, and nodded in agreement. 

“I suppose you could put it that way.” Suddenly her smile vanished as though behind a stormcloud. Her body tensed, her manner became one of caution and confidentiality. She leaned forwards, meticulously plucked eyebrows arched in concern, and when she spoke she sounded alarmingly frightened. 

“I’m worried about Nathan, Max. He’s not well. I love him to pieces but I think he’s losing it and I don’t know how to help him.” Here it was, her reason for invitation. 

“He um, he came into school this morning. I’m not sure why. He looked like hell.” Max wasn’t sure why she said that or if it was helpful at all, but Gwen nodded intently like it was. Max felt strangely touched by the depth of Gwen’s concern. 

“It’s stuff like that that I worry about. He told me the other day he could get hit by cars and not get hurt. A few days ago he was saying he thought he could fly if he tried really hard. That’s not normal thinking. I’m really scared, Max.” Gwen bit her lip. Christopher put a comforting hand on her leg, though he still didn’t talk. His thumbnail was bruised and black, Max noticed. “His father won’t take him back to his psychiatrist, and he won’t go himself. I could call some suicide hotline but he’s not actually suicidal. I…” her voice quavered, and Max really felt for her then. She’d had some pretty dark conversations with Chloe, admittedly not as bad as this, but the feelings from it were still there. The worst calls came at 2 in the morning, she remembered grimly. 

Gwen took a moment, gathered herself. “I think Victoria may be the last person who can help him.”

Max nodded slowly, trying to stay focussed on the conversation and stop her mind from spinning out. Victoria was waiting in the car outside right now, stubbornly refusing to let Max find another way home. She decided it might not be helpful to mention this. “And you want me to talk to her about it?”

“I didn’t know who else to ask,” Gwen continued, visibly troubled. “I know Courtney and her aren’t on speaking terms, and I don’t think Taylor likes me very much, but then I saw… the content on your Facebook… and I thought maybe I could trust you. You seemed really nice.” 

“Did Vic try to strangle you?” Max blurted, unable to stop herself. Christopher stiffened slightly beside Gwen, his hand on her leg withdrawing and clenching on his lap. The good old “Overly Protective Brother” trope, it seemed. She’d forgotten he was there until then, though at the same time his presence never left. Like air conditioning just a few degrees too cold. 

Gwen seemed reluctant to reply. “She… she did, yes,” she said in time with the sinking of Max’s heart, though was quick to add, “But I don’t hold it against her. She was going through a lot last week. I don’t think she would have killed me or anything--”

“That’s bullshit,” Christopher grunted, finally speaking up. His voice was several octaves lower than Max expected, and full of contempt. His eyes seemed to smoulder as he talked, dark and dangerous, strangely hateful. He couldn’t have been older than Max but he sported a thick beard, the dark hair on top of his head shaved into a crew cut. “Bitch tried to kill you. There were popped blood vessels in your fuckin’ eyes.” He talked in the same style as Nathan did, Max noticed, though with less instability. 

“She was drunk, Topher,” Gwen shot back, her hair flaming as she turned her head sharply. “She didn’t know what she was doing. Don’t ever say that.” 

Christopher just grunted again and resumed his silence, sitting back and folding his large arms over his sweater. 

Gwen smiled apologetically at Max. “Anyway, regardless of intent, Victoria’s actions did lead to some… um, awkward ground between us. So, that’s where you come in.” Another apologetic smile. “I was hoping you could talk through me and help me to arrange a meet-up between Nathan and Victoria, so they can work out their differences and hopefully Nathan can get some help. I think Victoria would appreciate it too. I know the friendship meant a lot to the both of them. Now I’ve met you and I feel like I know you and trust you, I feel more comfortable asking. Would that be okay?” 

Max nodded. “I’ll try to talk to her,” she said, and Gwen smiled again.

Five minutes later Max was out the door, after promising Gwen she had a ride home and the redhead had hugged her tight, like she was a close friend. “If you need anything, anything at all, you call me.” Gwen told her intensely as a parting statement, her warm blue eyes boring into Max’s. Max had promised, and then a servant had walked Max to where Victoria’s car was, and before she knew it she was further and further away from the cavernous mansion Gwen called her home. 

“How was it?” Victoria asked as soon as Max got in, starting up the engine. She looked like she’d been sleeping for a bit but her smile was still fond. Max reached out and straightened her collar, which had gone crooked. 

How was it, indeed?

“Gwen was lovely, I really liked her. But her brother scared me. Is he like that with everyone?” Even though he was further and further away from Max with every second now, she swore she could still feel his black eyes on her. Max nestled back into the expensive leather of of seat, trying to shake off a chill that was no longer there.

“Christopher? I’m sorry, I should have warned you about him.” Victoria laughed and took Max’s hand as an apology. Her hand was warm. “He’s seriously creepy. When -- um. When Nate and I were still on good terms, he said the guy was fucked in the head, and Nathan would know. Very sexual.”

Max shot Victoria a look of disgust. “Gross! Don’t tell me any more!”

“He likes blue eyes,” Victoria wiggled her eyebrows at Max, smirking. It was times like this when Max felt her attraction to the idiot next to her the most. “With those big beautiful blue eyes like yours, you’d better watch out.”

“Don’t make me vomit.” Max was far from vomiting, but made gagging sounds anyway for emphasis.

They drove in silence for a while, watching the shadows outside the car and thinking about the universe. Victoria’s finger stroked Max’s thumb. She was a surprisingly good one handed driver. The air conditioning in the car was turned up, so it was warm to the extent of having a drowsy effect -- no wonder Victoria had been sleeping before. Max really didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she couldn’t stop herself. At least she could get it out of the way now. 

“She wants you to talk to Nathan.” 

Victoria stiffened, her expression going cold. Max suspected that might happen. “He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“She’s scared of what he might do, Vic. She thinks you’re the only one who can reach him.”

Victoria withdrew her hand and didn’t say anything for a while. Then she snapped, “Of course now she’s found out how fucked he is she’s tapping out. Fucking bitch. He would be fine if she hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. This is just rubbing it in my face now. Fucking bitch.” Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and the speech of the car increased. Max was mildly alarmed, but also felt a flicker of distaste. 

“You can’t blame her for that, Tori. She says he’s getting worse. She’s scared. You should see it as a compliment--”

“A compliment?” Victoria basically snarled, outraged. Her hazel eyes flashed in Max’s direction but otherwise stayed on the road. Her mouth was tight with anger. “She ruined almost every aspect of my life, Max. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I… I think you did that by spreading rumours about Nathan and then almost strangling her to death, Vic.” Max winced as she said this, closing her eyes momentarily. She tried to say it gently.

A terrible silence came over the car. 

“You don’t have proof of that,” Victoria said eventually, her voice wary.

“Gwen said you did. Christopher said you popped blood vessels in her eyes. He saw.” Silence. Max continued, hoping she wasn’t making it worse. Nerves were wadded up in a lump in her chest. This was definitely not the kind of conversation she’d wanted to have. “Gwen defended you. Christopher was pretty angry but she said you were just upset.”

That terrible silence again. The car didn’t slow. 

“Tori, slow down,” Max mumbled. 

After a pause, the car slowed. They drove for a long time in complete silence. 

Max wished she knew what Victoria was thinking. Was she still mad? Confused? Was she going to cry again? Max really didn’t want that. 

They got all the way to Blackwell without another word. Victoria pulled up in the carpark (the most expensive parks were at the back, near the football field, covered by a makeshift gazebo to protect them from the elements. Victoria pulled into one of these parks). 

Neither of them made a move to get out of the car, though they both clicked their seatbealts off eventually. Victoria just sat there, her facial expression unreadable. Her breathing was slow, as if she were meditating. 

Max thought maybe they were in for an all-nighter when Victoria finally broke the tableaux. 

“I’ve been an absolute bitch, haven’t I.” It wasn’t a question. 

Max didn’t answer. She too was questioning her life decisions, though somehow she couldn’t find it in her to regret anything. 

Victoria nodded. “I have.” And then, “Shit.” There was another pause, and then she said again, “Shit.” She turned to Max, her eyes wide. “Why do you even like me?”

“Well, I mean, you’re nice to me…” Max mumbled, and Victoria actually screamed. 

“That’s not an answer!” she yelled, grabbing Max’s shoulders. Her blonde hair was hanging in her face again, which was too much for Max to stand and she tried to kiss her but Victoria pulled away. “I’m such a bitch,” she muttered, covering her face with both hands. “I am actually such a fucking bitch.”

“Are you having an existential crisis…?”

“I think I might be.”

“Come on, go to bed and tomorrow we can figure everything out, okay?” 

Max got out of the car and walked a grudging Victoria back to the girls' dorms, their feet crunching over grass and their shadows thrown eerily long across the empty courtyard like ink spilled on paper. This night was colder than the ones before it and Max shivered as she walked, though Victoria, who walked like a zombie with a frown permanently carved into her face, didn’t seem to notice. 

Max thought that would be the end of her night when she walked through those polished doors, but there was only another drama, albeit a more subdued one. Alyssa was sitting in the corridor crying, being comforted by a sympathetic but confused Juliet and Dana. Stella stood watching in the doorway with her arms crossed, and nodded to Max as she entered the scene.

“What’s going on, is she okay…?” Max asked, concerned. Alyssa was ugly crying, her face red and snot dripping from her nose. Juliet was trying to talk to her but Alyssa would just shake her head.

Stella was apparently not in a good mood tonight. “She’s been like this for hours, just crying and won’t tell anyone what the problem is. She’s been acting off all week but I think this is some kind of breaking point. I don’t care anymore, I just want to fucking sleep but it’s too loud.”

“She’s been sad all week?” Max asked, and Stella stared at her with The Look Of Disappointment (if you’ve made it this far into this fanfic then you definitely know the look). 

“Seriously?” Stella asked, incredulous. 

“She seemed fine to me at the movie night…”

“She barely talked the whole night. I guess you were preoccupied,” Stella shot a glance at Victoria, who was still frowning. 

“Wait, no, she was sad on Friday night,” Max remembered suddenly. “When we were watching fireworks on the hill. She ‘had shit to contemplate’, if I remember right.”

“Yeah.” Stella seemed disinterested suddenly, detaching herself from the conversation or maybe just from Max. “Anyway, fuck it, I’m going to bed. I guess I’ll just gouge my ears out or… something.” 

She slammed the door shut in Max’s face, and Max wondered why so little in her life made sense.

Dana shot Max that “hey, girl” look girls give each other and Max shot a sympathetic one back as her and Victoria descended down the hallway. When they got to the end, Victoria took Max’s hand and pulled her into her own room. A flyer had been put up on her bedroom door, advertising the upcoming beach protest -- #OilBaronsFuckOff was apparently the best hashtag they could create. 

“Can you sleep with me tonight while I have a mental breakdown?” Vic asked, finally making eye contact, and Max was lost in hazel again. She said it like she was joking, but those eyes carried a serious undertone.

“Just let me get my pyjamas.” 

 

* * * * *

 

They slept intertwined, when they slept at all -- Max drifted in and out, while Victoria was fitful, moving and twisting in Max’s arms, at times staring at the ceiling and not blinking at all. Max would cover the girl’s eyes with her hand, gently, and laugh as Victoria shook the hand off. Sometimes they’d mumble to each other in the dark, breathing in each other’s scents and the soapy, artificial fragrance of the room. Victoria’s hand would trace the side of Max’s face and Max would know that wherever she was, she was safe and life was good.

And then, sometime in the early morning, when their foreheads were touching and they breathed in time like a single organ:

“I’ll talk to him,” Victoria promised. “I’ll make it right.”


	10. China

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mostly fluff, I heard you people like fluff so I gave you some fluff. Sorry for the late update, my dog ate my laptop or whatever. Thanks again for your awesome comments, I don't reply because I don't want to be repetitive but I read all of them and I really do appreciate them. I hope you all had a good Christmas (if you celebrate it) and new years, woo 2017 and all that. Anyway, enjoy!

Sometimes when Max woke up in the morning, for even just a few moments, she would forget where she was. It was cliche, but it happened. Her eyes would flutter open and she would wonder -- wait, what? -- before remembering her life and who she was and where she was. 

When she woke up this Wednesday morning, it was one of those mornings. Her eyes opened slowly, geriatrically, on to a frowning Victoria’s face as the girl studied something on her phone. Max almost screamed, before the memories came rushing back to her: yesterday, the old abandoned theatre. Her raging bisexuality. Oh yeah. 

So instead of screaming she said, “I never realised how fast gay girls move until now.”

Victoria looked up, smirked, kissed Max between her eyes. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, which made her features seem softer, less challenging. Max liked it, though she felt bad about the black rings around the blonde girl’s eyes. 

“Funny you should mention that.” Victoria smiled in a slightly dopey way Max hadn’t seen before. “Our wedding is on Sunday, according to Facebook.” She showed Max her phone, which showed an event page: THE ELOPEMENT OF CHASEFIELD. It had been made sometime yesterday, and already half of Blackwell was supposedly going. Never underestimate the power of bored horny teenagers, Max guessed.

“Seriously?” was all Max could muster, though she was laughing. She wasn’t surprised, wasn’t capable of being surprised anymore.

“‘To be held at the front of Blackwell, with a reception at the Two Whales Diner’,” Victoria read out, rolling her eyes. “Well. At least they’re keeping it classy.”

“Are we gonna go?”

“Well. I’m going. I’d be highly offended if you left me at the altar.” Victoria turned her nose up, faking aloofness. “Let’s just hope you’re not too tired partying from the protest on Saturday. Hashtag Oil Barons Fuck Off, who even came up with that?”

“You know me, always the party animal… no promises.”

“I’ll put that as a ‘maybe’ then.” Victoria paused, still smiling, her fingers caught up in Max’s hair. She had a habit of putting things as ‘maybe’. Sometimes ‘maybe’ always meant yes, and sometimes ‘maybe’ always meant no, and Victoria was firmly in the first camp. It was a sign she usually got what she wanted, and fuck Max if that wasn’t hot as hell. “Another thing too. Wells texted me. Guess who wants that interview today?”

Max scrunched her face up, pretended to think. A bolt of adrenaline pierced her heart. If she hadn’t been fully awake before then she was definitely fully awake now. Funny, in all the weird shit she’d forgotten about interviews. “Is it… Samuel?”

Victoria rolled her eyes, pulled Max in closer, kissed her between her eyes again. Her hazel eyes were so close to Max’s now, which gave her a bolt of adrenaline of their own. Adrenaline or… something. “Nope. Guess again.”

“I can’t concentrate. You’re too cute.” Max blushed a bit as she said that, and Victoria definitely noticed.

“I want to kiss you properly but I having morning breath,” Victoria grumbled, still smiling. Max couldn’t really smell it and didn’t really care either way, but those things were important to Victoria, she guessed. “Anyway, way to deflect the question, hipster. It’s PopVine. Interview’s on at eleven thirty. We need to bring in those pictures you took at the theatre, they were pretty gay.”

“You’re pretty gay.”

“Hello-oo? Are you even listening, Maxine?” Victoria chuckled softly at Max’s exaggerated look of shock and horror. “Don’t murder me, I’m sorry. Max, never Maxine, I know. I know.”

They lay there for a while, absorbing each other’s body heat, settling into the same conjoined breathing pattern as last night, before Victoria groaned and started to sit up. Max groaned as well and gently tried to keep Victoria in the bed with her, but her hands were swatted away.

“No, we need to get ready.” Victoria chastised. Her knees clicked as she stood up, a reminder to Blackwell that their queen was also but a mere mortal. She was only wearing underpants and a singlet, which rendered Max unable to breathe for a few seconds. “Come on, get up, I need to do your makeup.”

Max’s brain was working just enough for her to process that final sentence properly. “Over my cold, lifeless body, Victoria Chase,” she managed, but her voice was noticeably distracted.

Victoria just looked at her and smiled.

 

* * * * *

 

An hour and a half later, Max was riding shotgun in Victoria’s flashy bright yellow Lexus, a full face of makeup on, wearing some of Victoria’s clothes and smelling of Victoria’s perfume -- the cinnamon one. She stared at herself in the side mirror, admittedly feeling cute as hell, and decided that this was the official moment where she had become Victoria’s bitch. Max had never seen the other girl look so smug before.

“Do you always get what you want?” Max asked, out of curiosity. Arcadia Bay whipped by in a sleepy blur around them. She tried to keep her head inside the window so her hair didn’t get completely ruined by the wind, but she was fairly certain the effort was wasted.

“Usually,” Victoria purred. She seemed to exclusively drive with her window down no matter what the temperature. She looked fucking great today, opting for a short but appropriate white dress that went with the white jeans and striped white-and-purple shirt she’d given Max to wear. Her red lipstick was reminiscent of the bead of blood that had lingered on those same lips yesterday, which Max found inordinately distracting. “I got you, didn’t I?” Victoria added after a pause, almost shyly. 

“Maybe.” Max’s phone went off in her pocket, and she opened it to a text from Gwen. 

‘Hey. Meet w/ N today? Gxx’

“That better not be your side hoe,” Victoria warned, narrowing her eyes at Max in over exaggerated suspicion. It made her forehead crinkle slightly, the muscles beneath her skin knotting into a crease Max found literally breathtaking. Damn, Victoria was in a good mood today. Max couldn’t tell if everything about the girl had suddenly become cute, or if she was just realising the depth of attraction she’d had for her. Maybe a bit of both. Who knew?

“Stop being adorable.” Max shoved Victoria’s shoulder lightly. “It’s Gwen. Are you gonna have time…?”

Victoria nodded, a sudden businesslike expression clouding her face for a moment. Then she nodded again, and said, “No. I can’t see him today.” 

Max nodded too. “Okay.”

Victoria spoke like she hadn’t heard Max, like she was trying to justify it to herself. “We don’t know how long this interview will go on for, and I’m too tired for the emotional wreck talking to him will be. I need to prepare mentally.” She drove on for a while, staring directly ahead of her, frowning slightly. Then she added, “Plus I want to spend today on you. Wells said we had school off for the whole day, which… well, you know.” The smile she gave Max could probably solve world hunger somehow. Max wasn’t sure how, but when she was caught up in moments like that it all seemed plausible. 

Max tried not to smile too widely and replied to Gwen’s text with ‘Sorry, today wont work, got interviews… long story. Tomoro should b fine though. Hope you’re both well. Xomaxo’. 

“It is done,” she told Victoria dramatically, putting her phone back in her pocket -- these jeans had proper pockets, thank god. “I’m sure he’ll be okay waiting another day.”

“I’m not a magical cure-all.” Victoria was trying to be playful, but Max heard the strain under her words, so she resolved to change the subject.

“I know. I’m sorry.” And she was sorry, truly. “...Have you ever been to Yellowstone?” Max was looking at the waves and smelling the sea spray, imagining what it would be like if the ocean was suddenly boiling. What would happen to the world’s ecosystems? How many people would die because of it? What could scientists do to reverse it? She was pretty sure it wasn’t a thing that could ever happen or be sustainable for any length of time, but things like that were interesting to think about sometimes. 

She decided, however, not to share this little nugget of deep thinking with her girlfriend-friend-friend-with-benefits just yet. 

“Why would I ever want to go to Yellowstone?” Victoria shot her a confused look, visibly agitated by that comment. Her hands were tight on the wheel again. Uh oh. “People fall in and get boiled alive. It’s horrific. I read a story about a man who jumped in after a dog and I had nightmares about it for weeks. They tried to pull his boot off and… ughh, no, I can’t even think about it.” She blinked hard, shuddering, her hands tightening and the car’s speed picking up slightly. Shit. “Seriously, boiling to death is the worst possible death I can think of, literally. That’s not exactly what I’d call a fun holiday.” She seemed to want to carry on, but instead took a deep breath and stared dead ahead of her again, the ghost of a “Fucking nope” lingering on her lips.

Max was in the weird juxtaposition of concerned but also trying not to laugh. “I don’t know,” she shrugged, “some people might be into it.” She watched Victoria’s lips curl into an exasperated smile at this and had to finally laugh, her hand going to Victoria’s knee apologetically. “Sorry. Volcanic activity not your thing?”

“I fucking hate volcanoes. And... geothermal... whatever. It stresses me out. You managed to pick one of the single other topics I hate.” Her hand brushed Max’s in return, returning the silent apology. Max thought she was done, but she wasn’t. “There’s this massive lake in New Zealand, I can’t remember its name, but when the volcano exploded -- you know, and made the lake -- they heard it all the way in China. In fucking China. That’s… I can’t even imagine that. I fucking hate volcanoes, Max.”

“Okay, no more volcano talk then,” Max promised. 

But she knew already she was too much of an asshole to keep that promise. 

 

* * * * *

 

PopVine’s main headquarters ended up being a two hour drive out of Arcadia, a far longer drive than she’d realised, into a big city whose name Max forgot as soon as she learned it. The outside of the building was a colossal glass giant, all sleek and modern as if to shame the older looking buildings around it, the professional POPVINE MAGAZINE sign above its automatic glass sliding doors as polished and perfect as Max suspected the inside would be. Looking up at that sign, Max felt nothing but intimidation and nerves, though by a quick glance to her right she saw Victoria was looking reassured. This was her world, Max realised. 

They walked through the doors wordlessly to receive a blast of air conditioning, immediately engulfed in the minimalistic black and white style of the reception room. Victoria spoke for the two of them at the desk, and was told by the receptionist -- a hipster girl with bright turquoise hair and hungover eyes, whose name tag announced her as ‘Boomquifia’ -- to go up to the fifth floor. The elevator ironically played Jessie J’s song Pricetag as they ascended, and Victoria draped an arm over Max’s shoulders confidentially, even though they were alone in the elevator. 

“Are you nervous?” she asked, mumbling in Max’s ear in her intimate habit. She’d gotten over the stress of the mystical horrors of volcanic activity remarkably fast, and had mostly been back to this the entire drive. 

The highlight of the road trip was definitely Victoria’s narration of the other drivers around her when the traffic was heavy and driving was stressful -- she’d comment things like ‘Oh, no, that’s great, by all means, speed up and cut me off, I’m not the one who has multiple STIs from all the needless risk taking’, and ‘That’s right, Brenda in the red van, don’t think I don’t see you, you stay in that right hand lane like you’re staying in your loveless marriage’. By the end of the drive, Max was beginning to suspect Victoria was one of those people who got offended for fun. Hell, she could certainly see the fun in it after that road trip.

“I’m absolutely terrified,” Max admitted back in the present, smiling in memory of Victoria’s road rage. 

Victoria smiled back. “I am too. Just remember, these people want to like us. It makes the interview flow better.” She laughed softly. “Though, if we cause drama, they won't hesitate to publish that too. So be careful. We’re here to represent Blackwell here. Think of this interview as… as a business exchange. You'll be great.”

“We’ll be great,” Max corrected, as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out. 

 

* * * * *

 

“So, my first question of course has to be about the posters.” The interviewer, Jaydenn Cole, was tall brown guy in maybe his mid thirties. He had no hair except in the very top of his head, and wore a dark blue three-piece suit even though the photographer there only ended up taking about four pictures of them. Jaydenn -- who had first introduced himself by spelling his name out, just in case there was any confusion -- had a way of smiling where he held his jaw really loosely, to the extent where Max often stared at it and wondered what the probability of it coming off if she pulled it would be. It was proving to be distracting to the point where she would miss parts of what he was saying. She’d already missed his first question. Luckily, Victoria hadn’t.

“Those posters were the most stressful thing to happen to me in a long time,” Victoria groaned dramatically. “I woke up and they were everywhere, I was so freaked out wondering, you know, what it meant for Max and I, if people were going to judge, that kind of thing. I just feel so blessed for the open-mindedness of Blackwell Academy that everyone reacted so positively.” 

“They were pretty funny posters,” Max interjected, smiling in remembrance. “There was one of my head photoshopped on a penguin’s body, which was funny because--” be very careful with what you say, Caulfield-- “the night before, we had a rally to… um, advocate for saving the environment, and Vic had spoken at that about the importance of saving penguins, so…” She shrugged, looked away. 

There was a very expensive looking vase on the coffee table in between Jaydenn and her. Vases like that made Max anxious, since she was notorious for breaking things, the more expensive the better. She remembered Chloe had drawn her up a poster, wild west style, when they were young -- WANTED MAX CAULFIELD DEAD OR ALIVE 4 BRAKING AND ENTERING -- because she’d accidentally smashed yet another of the Price’s cups when she tripped on her own feet. Max Caulfield: The Reason The Human Race Can’t Have Nice Things.

Jaydenn with two Ns laughed loudly, his jaw hanging again, slapping his leg. He kept glancing at the recorder also on the coffee table as though it was an active audience, which Max guessed it was. “Hilarious! The students of Blackwell sure do seem to have a sense of humour. Do you have any idea yet who put those posters up?”

“We really don’t know,” Max shrugged. “At this stage I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“Ah, maybe it’s better that way,” Jaydenn chuckled a bit more, before returning to his script. “So, Victoria, you mentioned previously that your um, your experience of being outed was made easier by the open-mindedness of Blackwell. How do you two think being in a relationship with two women in a high school setting compares to a relationship between a man and a woman?”

“Well,” Victoria cut in first again, “in high school it’s different because you’re stuck with a lot of people trying to find out who they are. Like, trying to sort out their identities, you know, that kind of thing. There is obviously a sort of different feel in how other people look at you…” 

And so it went on. 

They talked about sexuality, they talked about Blackwell, they talked about photography. Victoria handled the questions as though driving a well oiled car she’d owned all her life; Max verbally stumbled around a bit but did give some pretty decent answers and elicit a few laughs. She was starting to get bored by the end, until the photos they took at the abandoned theatre were finally pulled out. 

“So, as you know, what PopVine’s trying to do this month especially is to promote young photographers,” Jaydenn started again in his long-winded way of speaking. Max did not know that. When the fuck did anyone say anything about that? It would explain a lot, but… “Now, could you go over some of the photos you’ve brought here today? What they mean, how you feel they represent you?”

Max and Victoria exchanged a thoughtful look. Their best photos from the impromptu shoot at the theatre yesterday were laid out on the coffee table in front of them, notedly kept away from the vase. Among them were the one Victoria took of Max’s face when she first saw the room, one of Victoria leaning on the bannister on the gallery looking pristine, a silly one of them re-enacting the Titanic scene on the centre stage, some others. 

Max immediately snatched the Titanic photo. “I think this one is the most personal to us.” She didn’t know why she was so compelled to pick it. It was well composed, sure, but not the best photo in the pile. It showed Max standing, arms outstretched, Victoria behind her holding the camera doing the same. The rows of seats are behind them, and they’re both grinning like they’ve just won the lottery. Max remembered the insane sexual tension between them when that photo was taken. Why didn’t she just kiss her then? “I uh… it’s special because even though we’re photographers trying to make it in the professional world, we’re still just teenagers who want to have fun and still want to live life as an adventure.” 

“I remember that,” Victoria raised her eyebrows slightly at Max. “We took that quite early in the relationship.” Max snicked and tried to pass it off as a cough. Victoria continued, smirking a little more now. “Actually, it’s harder getting a selfie in that position than you’d think, especially when you’re thinking of composure.”

Jaydenn jumped in. “We have a camera here, if you want to re-create it. Show us how it’s done.”

“We’d love to,” Victoria said instantly, standing up. “We can take it on Max’s camera. She takes it everywhere, don’t you, darling?” She turned to Max, her back to Jaydenn, and stuck her tongue out. Max tried to give her a death glare but didn’t think it had much effect. This was a one-way trip to Max making a fool of herself and they both knew it. 

Max got her camera out of her bag, slowly. “That’s right.”

“Where should we do it? The coffee table? Is it okay if we stand on the coffee table? Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Victoria asked innocently, and Jaydenn just sat there laughing with his jaw hanging in that confoundedly loose way as usual. 

“Go for it,” Jaydenn snorted. “Just as long as you take your shoes off.” He moved the photos off the table and leant back, straightening his tie, which was blue like the rest of his suit, in anticipation. It occurred to Max that he was probably very bored by this point. 

Max stepped up on the table. Victoria stepped up behind her, camera in hand. “Mind the vase,” she told Victoria, and Victoria just laughed in her ear.

“So the focal point is our faces, of course, so we need to get that in the middle, hard to tell when the camera’s old enough to have witnessed my birth but we’re doing our best…” Victoria announced, trying to straighten up the camera. Jaydenn moved behind them and rocked the thumbs up, meaning she had to angle it down a bit to get him in, meaning she moved back a bit…

In the end, Max didn’t even have to push her, though the thought was definitely there. Victoria fell flat on her ass to the floor, nearly missing Jaydenn, smashing that ornate, expensive vase into a thousand pieces. Her scream was the most high pitched, girly scream Max has ever heard, and it lasted a beat longer than it should have. 

There was a shocked silence, and Victoria glared up at Max. Her face was turning crimson and she looked ready to kill. Max knew she would never forget that face. “Don’t… Don’t say a word, Max.”

Max grinned freely, laughter shaking her whole body. Jaydenn saw this as a sign to crack up too, their near-hysterical laughter reverberating around the interview room. Victoria just sat there, trying not to smile, arms crossed around Max’s camera. “It’s not funny,” she muttered after enduring the laughter for a while, her mouth twisted.

Max laughed some more, tried to stop, tears streaming down her face. She began a sentence, then had to stop, laughed some more, then started over again. She said:

“I bet they heard that in China too.”


	11. The Price of Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late reply. Please choose an excuse from the following list:
> 
> 1\. I suddenly became illiterate and was forced to re-learn the written English language  
> 2\. My dog ate my laptop  
> 3\. My toe was sore

Victoria tried to give Max the silent treatment on the drive back, she really did. Max could tell by the way she pressed her lips together. She waited a while, watching those lips as her tongue twisted tumultously around in her mouth, like a storm in the middle of a vast and unbreachable ocean, waiting for Victoria’s metaphorical stubbornness boat to finally sink. It didn’t, and Max wasn’t in a patient mood, so she initiated.

“You know, when I said they could hear your scream all the way over in China--”

“Shut the fuck up, Max.” Victoria said it like she was angry, but she held her jaw and lips like she was trying not to laugh, so Max judged it was safe to continue.

“--I didn’t really mean China. Maybe somewhere closer, like Brazil.” Max looked over at Victoria again, and this time the hint of a smile had escaped onto her lips. She apparently didn’t trust herself to talk. Max leaned in closer, to Victoria’s ear, and whispered: “Or perhaps even…” she paused for effect, heard a repressed snigger, “Greenland.”

Victoria finally lost it and burst out laughing, hitting Max lightly on the arm, a mixture of pissed off and amused. “I fucking hate you, Max! I looked like such an idiot! Did you see Jaydenn’s face?”

“His name is ‘Jaydenn’ with two Ns, his opinion is invalid,” Max grinned, proud of herself, and they both laughed some more. “And you only agreed to the photo because you thought I would be the one to fall over, come on. I know you caught me staring at that vase.” 

“No,” Victoria said lamely, unable to bullshit a good excuse in time. There was a beat where they looked at each other, and then the laughter started again.

“Yeah, that was really convincing, Victoria, good job.”

“You’re a bitch, Max.” Her hand slipped off the wheel and made it’s way to Max’s, their fingers entertwining slowly. 

And thus the silence was broken. 

 

* * * * *

 

They arrived back in Arcadia Bay at around two thirty. With a whole afternoon to burn off and a day that seemed to just be peaking, they decided unanimously to go get some ice cream and walk along the beach. This turned out to be a great decision, as Blackwell wasn't getting out for another hour and a half, and save for a few elderly women and the occasional jogger the beach was deserted. 

They walked hand in hand, eating their ice cream, talking sparingly. Max’s was vanilla and Victoria’s was strawberry. Max thought smugly that she’d known Victoria would choose strawberry before she even chose it. Did girls like her ever choose anything but strawberry? It was the archetypical Rich Bitch flavour. Max didn't like it herself. It didn't even taste like strawberries. Though she guessed she couldn't judge, since she’d chosen vanilla. 

They walked where the path took them, going from beach boardwalk to rough, sand-infused gravel, to the smooth pavement of the town. By the time they’d both finished their icecreams they found themselves standing, as if by some twist of fate, beneath the faded posters of the local movie theatre. They looked at each other, the silent question asked, and it was Max who answered.

“Do you promise not to talk all the way through?”

Victoria scoffed, faking offense. A single blonde stroke of hair slipped out of place on her head and she corrected it instantly, thoughtlessly. “Who, me?”

Max thought again about how fast things had changed between them. Enemies on Friday, lovers only four days later, on Tuesday afternoon. Attraction was weird as hell, but it was okay, because everything else was weird as hell too. She couldn’t say she loved Victoria yet, as had been her impulse that day they’d kissed. Max guessed love would come later, perhaps on night five or six, around the same point when they bought a cat and moved in together. Their marriage was on the Sunday, so it was all plausible. Probably. 

With all this in mind, Max simply smiled, took Victoria’s hand again, and told her, “Let’s see what’s on.”

 

* * * * *

 

The first movie that was showing turned out to be a cheesy subtitled Spanish romance. From what Max could pick up, Maria was in love with Antonio but her father wanted her to marry someone rich and powerful. There was a lot of footage of the two of them walking in a meadow as symphony music played, complete with audio of the two of them mumbling sappy stuff to each other and sometimes the guy playing the piano shirtless. Max had never expected Victoria to be true to her word on not talking, but surprisingly she was fairly quiet. Max looked over to her near the end, when Maria and Antonio were saying goodbye for the final time and the meadow was on fire, and she was even more shocked to see Victoria crying quietly. 

“Really, ba- uh, Vic?” Max asked, too loud. Almost saying ‘babe’, but catching herself before she did. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Victoria snapped, wiping her eyes. “It’s sad, okay?”

Max tried not to laugh, she really did. Onscreen, Maria was watching a tap running, the camera flicking between close ups of the drain and her tearful eyes, violin strings straining to their fullest. “Who’s the hipster now?” Max had to add, after a pause in which Victoria sniffed loudly. 

“Eat a dick, Max, seriously.”

“Oi!” This voice came from behind them. “Could you two shut up?”

“Sorry!” Max called back, sinking down in her seat as if to camouflage against the stained red fabric. Still unable to stop laughing. She was always laughing around Victoria, she realised. It was nice. 

“You’re not even sorry,” Victoria whispered back at her, reproachful. 

“Okay, maybe I’m not,” Max admitted.

 

* * * * *

 

When the movie finally ended and the lights went up (Victoria and Max decided unanimously to gap it, in case the angry person behind them wanted to talk any more), the streets of Arcadia Bay were swarming with Blackwell students, bright faced and backpack-bearing. Victoria, still acting slightly mad, looked at her phone and groaned.

“What?” Max asked cautiously. 

“Taylor.” Victoria showed her the screen, which showed two missed calls and fourteen text messages. Max could only see the first two, which read ‘ICKY VICKY ANSWR YOU PHONE’ and ‘Gurl I haven’t seen u in ages where u at xx’. “She must be in shock, I haven’t texted her in at least four hours. I’ll ring her.”

“Put her on speaker,” Max called, and was unsurprised to be flipped off. 

She listened to Victoria’s end, noticing instantly the difference in tone -- when talking to Taylor she was far more chirpy, starting off with a “Hey bitch!” and saying “Oh my god” a lot. Midway through the conversation, she paused, took the phone away from her ear, and asked “Hey Max, how would you feel about a sleepover? Just the three of us.” When Max nodded in return, she smiled widely and resumed the phone call, another few minutes of “Oh my god”s and “Hoe, you know it”s, before finally hanging up with a “Bye bitch, see you tonight, love you.”

Max knew Victoria was already slightly on edge with her, so she didn’t comment. “This sounds like fun,” she said neutrally, watching a blue car run a red light at a nearby intersection. She would have bet five dollars the car belonged to another Blackwell bro, out on town and ready for some havoc. 

“Our sleepovers are the best,” Victoria bragged playfully. “We used to have them with Courtney, but she’s Gwen’s bitch now so she can get lost. Feel honoured that you’re being let in.”

“I do feel honoured, really.”

They drove into Blackwell, Victoria parking in that same tented parking spot she had before. It was a particularly hot day today, and the sun showed no sign of fading. A great day to spend with Victoria, Max reflected, then almost hit herself in the face for such a lame thought. 

When they got to Taylor’s room she was lying spread out on her bed, a bottle of something red rested on her chest. On hearing the door open she jumped up and hugged Victoria, and then, after a moment of hesitation, hugged Max too. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the peroxide blonde told the two of them grandly, shoving the bottle into Victoria’s hands. She looked like a rip-off of the real thing when she stood next to Victoria, Max realised with some pride. Taylor looked like she’d copy-and-pasted different parts of her identity out of a scrapbook, doing a good job of it but somewhat forgetting herself in the process. Max wondered if that was a horrible thing to think. “I got cider because it’s a school night,” Taylor continued, moving her arms in a swooping flourish, “but I thought you’d need some to deal with tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Oh, tomorrow. The Grand Victoria and Nathan Showdown. God, Max hoped that went well. 

“Oh my god. Love you, Taylor,” Victoria purred, taking the cap off and drinking directly from the bottle. “Do you want some, Max?”

“No thanks.” After Friday night she’d decided she was never touching alcohol again. Not a single drop, not now, not ever. Not even a drop of communion wine when she became a nun to repent for her sins. 

“More for me,” Victoria shrugged, touching Max’s arm, before taking another few mouthfuls. “Sweet T, did you order any pizza?”

“I didn’t know if Max was a vegan or not, so I didn’t.”

“I’m not,” Max said. “But thank you.”

“Why would you think she’d be vegan?” Victoria asked, confused.

“We’re at an art school. Like, fifty percent of the people here are.” Taylor rolled her eyes as she said this, flicking her hair slightly. Max didn’t know if she was making fun of herself or not. 

“No!” Victoria said after a pause. “Who here is vegan? I don’t know any vegans.”

“Dana’s a vegan.” 

“Um, no she is not.”

“Bitch, yes she is!”

“Bullshit. I'm ringing her.”

And so the night continued like that. 

Pizza arrived after a short and passionate debate about the number of vegans at Blackwell (Dana, as it turned out, was a vegetarian). They ended up settling on a Hawaiian and a meat lovers. Max despised Hawaiian, believing deeply that pineapple had a time and a place for everything, this time and place never being on pizza, but the other two said they liked it so she suffered through. 

They talked about school, exams, the art world, the Vortex Club (“Which, by the way, you can join if you want,” Victoria added as almost a side thought to Max, who politely declined). When the bottle of cider was empty another one magically appeared from Taylor’s desk, and though Max knew the two girls weren’t drunk, they were giggling quite a bit.

The thing that surprised Max most was just how much she had in common with these people. Their company was as easy and friendly as an old sweater she’d owned for years. When had been the last time she’d even thought of Chloe? It had been a while. She thought to herself that she had to ring Chloe at some point, update her on everything that had happened since they’d last talked. If anyone deserved to know what was going on in her life, it was Chloe.

“Guys! I know what we should do!” Taylor half-yelled suddenly, breaking Max out of her thoughts. “Truth or Dare!”

“Hm.” Victoria pursed her lips. “I’m up for it. Max?”

Hm. “As long as it’s nothing illegal or too embarrassing.”

“Psh, you’re no fun,” Taylor teased, before instantly pouncing. 

The game started as usual, the tamer questions first and then getting into the harder stuff. Victoria made out with Taylor’s foot; Max shared her dream she’d had about Victoria, about what colour it would be if she kissed her (Victoria blushed deeply at this); Taylor called her mother and told her she was pregnant (“Name him Santa, you hoe hoe hoe,” her mother had joked, no stranger to prank calls).

And then, it happened. 

“Max, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Again? Figures.” Taylor thought for awhile, face scrunched up. Then she smiled triumphantly and asked: “Okay, Mad Max, spill the beans. How many people have you fucked?”

Max didn’t reply immediately, almost tempted to lie. “Um… nobody.”

“Really?” Stunned Mullet Victoria was back momentarily, as the blonde sat up, shocked. “Not even Warren?”

“What?” Max yelped, alarmed. “We never… Who’s saying that?”

Taylor cackled, obviously proud of herself. “Like, everyone. Before the posters at least. You're welcome, by the way.”

“What do you mean, ‘You're welcome’?” Victoria asked, flippant. 

Taylor just looked at her, her smile growing to Cheshire Cat proportions. Suddenly, the room went very quiet.

Victoria stared, mouth open. “Are you saying…?”

“That I put the posters up? Yes, I did. Surprise!” Taylor cackled again, blue eyes darting from Victoria to Max. “Seriously. I have the files on my computer if you don’t believe me.”

“And… you’re not kidding?” Victoria asked, her tone strangely flat.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. Logan can testify for me.”

Max was speechless. She wasn’t even mad, just… speechless. 

Taylor continued happily. “I came back to see if you were okay and you were chatting up Max, so I was like ‘Yass’, because you never shut up about how much you liked her, also I was kind of pissed at you--”

“TAYLOR CHRISTENSEN, YOU ABSOLUTE BITCH!” Victoria suddenly screamed, jumping up like she wanted to hit her. “I… you… uuughhhh!” She picked up a pillow and screamed into it, Lilo and Stitch style, then used the same pillow to hit Taylor in the face. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Taylor yelled back, grabbing a pillow for defense. Victoria screamed and tried to hit her with the pillow again, but Taylor blocked it and jumped up, still laughing like a banshee, getting into a fighting position. Victoria struck again, and then Taylor hit back, and then next thing Max knew the two were having an all out pillow fight, screaming at the top of their lungs, Taylor streaming tears and clutching her sides, Victoria red in the face, hair everywhere. Max caught little bits of the screaming:

“--IT WORKED, YOU CAN’T SAY IT DIDN’T WORK, YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME--”

“--I WAS GONNA MOVE TO AUSTRALIA, CHANGE MY NAME OR WHATEVER--”

“--EVERYBODY WAS NICE ABOUT IT, YOU WERE ONLY STRESSED BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER--”

“--AND THEN THEY’LL ASK ‘OH, WHERE’S VICTORIA CHASE’, AND I’D HAVE TO BE LIKE ‘I DON’T KNOW, NOT FUCKING HERE, MAYBE SHE DIED’--”

The screaming attracted the other residents of the girls' dorms, and not for the first time this week, Max found herself sitting on the bed while chaos raged around her, staring back at the giggling crowd, unable to do anything but shake her head slightly and stare ahead, deadpan. This went on for a while until Victoria finally forced Taylor out of the door and locked it, the click resonating through the now-silent room. 

“You can sleep outside, this is my room now!” Victoria yelled through the keyhole as a final remark, then stood, panting, pillow still clutched in her hands like she was ready for Round 2. 

“Well…” Max said, after an extended pause. Trying to think of something to say. “She does have a point. It did turn out pretty well,”

Victoria just stared at her, long-suffering, and it was her turn to shake her head. 

“I’m so done,” she said blandly, sitting down on Taylor’s bed. “I am so fucking done.”

 

* * * * *

 

Max didn’t end up sleeping in Victoria’s bed that night, though as far she knew Taylor didn’t get her room back either. She slept surprisingly easily, unconscious almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She didn’t wake up until her alarm sounded at 9. 

She got up, got dressed and brushed her teeth, the buzzing of her phone welcoming back to her room. A text from Gwen. ‘Nate will c Vic @ back of gym 9:30 xx’. Max nodded, still sleepy, and forwarded the text to Victoria. Victoria had calmed down eventually last night, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want any distractions the next morning. Max knew how much of a huge thing this was for her, so she was fine giving her some space. 

She glanced at her timetable to see what was first. English AP. She texted Victoria again with ‘I’ll cover for you in english good luck xomaxo’. 

The reply came a few seconds later: ‘Thanx max :)’. 

Smiling, Max stuck her phone in her pocket, slipped over bag over her shoulder, and began her walk to English. She was halfway across campus when her phone rang. She got her phone back out, half expecting to see Victoria’s name flashing on her phone screen, but the number was one she didn’t recognise. 

“Hello-”, Max started to say, before she was immediately cut off. The voice was sobbing, instantly recognisable, and the words chilled her to the bone. 

“Max? It’s Courtney. You need to get to Victoria. He’s going to kill her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly guys, I'm gonna be real, I really don't like this chapter. Not a lot happens and the pacing feels off to me, which is mostly my fault for not planning this day of the story properly, but it's still disappointing to you guys so I'm sorry. More good chapters are coming after this one, I promise. As always, thanks to everyone who gave kudos, commented, or even just slogged through this whole thing, it means a lot!
> 
> Side note: I did make a hoe joke, but I'm not trying to judge anyone. You like sex then you go mate, spread your legs and fly, just use protection and make good choices


	12. Shit Gets Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is kind of a sad/slightly fucked up chapter and has a bit more plot saturation than I'd like. I think it's the longest chapter yet on top of that. Uh... enjoy!

It was like she was in a dream. “You need to get to Victoria,” Courtney sobbed into the phone. “He’s going to kill her.” 

There was a moment where Max couldn’t breathe. Where everything just froze. Even though campus was noisy around her she swore she could hear her own heartbeat, suddenly racing, making her feel dizzy and sick, like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Her mind stopped working. For that moment, she was capable of only a single thought, and that thought was a single word, a name. 

Victoria’s name. 

Then Courtney said, “Max?” and she snapped back into reality.

“How do you know?” was all Max could manage. Her throat was dry.

“You don’t have time for that. Get to her.” Courtney bit back a sob, the phone receiver sounding like her hand was shaking. “I’m sorry.” Then she hung up. 

Max hesitated for a millisecond longer, then bolted in the direction of the gym. Not caring how she looked, red in the face, skinny legs pumping as fast as they would go. She almost knocked into a few people on the way, had a few people call out crude things to her, but she barely heard them. She was in her own bubble and everything outside was a blur. 

She could see the gym now, getting closer and closer, and she headed for the back entrance where she knew Nathan and Victoria would be. She’d only been behind the gym a few times before, with Chloe and Rachel. Everyone who was anyone went there to blaze up on school grounds, so naturally Max was not a frequent visitor. The memory of this was a raindrop on an airplane now; fragmented and unimportant to the point of being inconsequential. 

Max rounded the corner of the building, banging her hip hard on a dumpster, just in time to see Nathan backing Victoria up to the wall. There was a gun in his hand. 

Max was filled with a feeling of panic like she’d never felt before. She’d never been in a situation where she knew she could die at any moment. Nothing felt fully real. The world moved in slow motion. 

“HEY!” Max yelled, as loud and strong as she could, panting. No idea what she was going to do after that. Not thinking. 

Nathan looked mad for a moment, then blinked slowly, like he was just waking up, as he turned to face Max. His gun was pointed at her now. Confusion tore at the seams of his face. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he murmured, as if to himself. His shirt was buttoned up wrong, stained, and stubble covered his jaw. He smelled like he was already dead, which in a way he was. Max looked at him, looked into his eyes, and she saw the same all-consuming and terrifying nothingness she had seen that day in the corridor. 

Victoria stood still as a stone against the wall. Not crying, just staring ahead. She didn’t seem to register that Max was even there. Max thought maybe her head was bleeding but she couldn’t look at her long enough to know for sure. Looking away from Nathan at this point would be fatal. 

“Why shouldn’t I be here?” Max asked cautiously, trying not to let her voice shake. Nathan would just as soon pull the trigger on her as itch a scab on his arm, she could see it in his eyes. This wasn’t Nathan Prescott. Not really. This boy was a vortex. 

Nathan just stared at her like he didn’t understand the question. Like she was speaking another language. Then he said, “Victoria’s dangerous. She needs to die. I told you. She. She hurts people.” His eye contact was intense, bloodshot blue eyes turned to grey fixed on her unblinkingly. Blackness stretching up around his eyes like an infinite and limitless darkness he stood on the void between. His expression a mixture of fear and doubt. 

Max could have cried. Oh, Nathan, she thought. I’m so sorry. 

“You’ll be hurting a lot of people if you shoot either of us today,” Max said, afraid to blink. She wanted to scream at Victoria to run while his attention was on her but the blonde girl just stood there, completely unmoving, just staring and staring at absolutely nothing. “There are other ways to solve this,” she persisted, when he didn't say anything. Max could hear a class going on inside the gym but she didn’t dare call out to them. He’d shoot her before she could get past the first syllable. 

Nathan acted like he hadn’t even heard her. “She tried to kill Gwen. Did you know that?” He took a sudden lurching step forwards, and for a second Max was convinced he was just going to pull the trigger. But he just kept staring, gun still aimed steadily. “That’s, um.” He thought for a while, a flash of terrifying anger crossing his face when he couldn’t find the word, teeth digging into his chapped lower lip.

“Assault?” Max suggested, trying to direct him away from the M-word. Brain straining, nerves on fire.

“Sure,” said Nathan, the anger disappearing instantly. He paused and looked confused again, used his free hand to rub his face hard, looked around like maybe he wasn’t sure where he was. “Do you want to know a secret, Max?”

Not in a million fucking years. “Yes?”

“I don’t know what’s real or not right now. There’s, uh.” He looked upwards, distracted for a moment. Laughed, almost self-consciously. “I don’t know if that’s you. I know that’s Victoria, and I’m going to kill her,” he gestured nonchalantly. “But. You. I am never quite sure about you. I don’t know what, um. You.” Another pause. “Are?” 

This was not good.

“Nathan, have you been taking your medications?” Max tried to approach this kindly, but he snorted, shifting his legs like a bull, that streak of anger creeping back.

“I don’t need that. Gwen said it’s not good for me. Makes my head bad.” His gun arm raised just slightly, sending a fresh wave of pure panic through Max’s body. 

“Stop,” Max snapped on instinct. The animal urge to scream and babble and beg for her life was almost overwhelming.

Nathan looked mad, then confused all over again, but it worked. He lowered the gun, only slightly, but it was a start. He tried to speak but Max cut him off.

“Listen to me, Nathan.” She knew full well if this didn’t work he was going to shoot her, and then Victoria, and then quite possibly himself after he’d realised what he’d done. This fear rose in her chest like a volcanic eruption and exploded out her mouth, and she continued talking. 

“You were right. I’m not just Max. I’m also your conscience, and I’m here to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life. If you pull that trigger, that is murder. Do you understand? That’s fucking murder. That’s worse than anything any of us here has done. That’s something you can’t undo. The worst possible crime. That’s real, Nathan. That’s as real as it gets. That’s all that gun can give you. Now,” she said, taking a step forwards, half convinced he’d just shoot her there and then. “This is the first and only time I’m going to ask you.”

She took a deep, deep breath.

“Put the gun down, Nathan Prescott.”

There was a long pause in which she waited to be shot. They never broke eye contact. Nathan just stared.

And then, he lowered the gun. He hesitated, then arched his arm back and threw it as far as he could, onto the roof of a nearby bike shed. He stood and stared up at the roof for a long time, panting, and when he finally looked back at Max he was crying.

“That would have been pretty stupid, huh?” He asked weakly, laughing a tiny bit, then crying some more. “Fuck. That would have been so stupid. Why would I do that? Fuck.” He covered his face with both hands and wiped his eyes, hands shaking so bad he could barely manage it. “That was so stupid.” He kicked the dumpster Max had banged her hip on, hard. Once, twice, three times. He looked ready to do more damage, when suddenly he stopped. “What do I tell Gwen?” he asked, suddenly afraid again. Like a lost child. 

Max felt the conversation move back into the danger zone, and her heart rate increased accordingly. “You… you tell her the truth. That I stopped you, so you couldn’t do it.” She would deal with what he meant by that later. It wasn’t important now. 

“She’ll be really mad,” Nathan told her intently. He seemed to have forgotten Victoria was even there, which was exactly how Max preferred it. “She might get Christopher,” he adding, paleing. “I don’t want that.” 

Max thought of Christopher’s cold black eyes and shivered. “What does Christopher do, Nathan?” 

Nathan made a face like he thought he’d said too much. Opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again and whispered, “He’s like what Victoria is.” He shook his head like he was clearing bad thoughts. “I need to go now. They’ll be waiting. Today was a big day, that’s what they said.” 

He started to walk off with sudden urgency and Max watched him, helpless. At one point he turned and called, “Don’t worry!”, though what exactly he meant Max wasn’t sure. He then turned a corner and was gone.

Max exhaled, unaware she’d been unconsciously holding her breath. She was sweating pinballs, her face flushed, suddenly more drained than she’d ever felt in all her life. But there was one last thing to do.

She went over to Victoria, noting with some horror that yes, her head was bleeding, probably knocked against a wall. “Is your head okay?” she asked gently, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

Victoria hugged her then, hard, harder than Max had been hugged in a long time. Max had expected Victoria to cry but this silence was somehow worse. The silence conveyed her grief and sorrow and downright despair better than tears ever could. Max wanted to reassure her, to make everything better, but her mouth wouldn’t open and words wouldn’t come. So she just stood there hugging her, a lump in her throat, like it was the end of the world and they were the last people left. 

 

* * * * *

 

When they were both ready to walk again, they went back to their dorms, school forgotten. Max relayed what she could to Victoria in fragments of sentences:

“How did you know?” This was Victoria. 

“Courtney rang me.”

“How did she know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did Courtney try to stop him?”

“I don’t know.” 

Victoria never asked why Nathan would do it. Never questioned it. That hurt most of all. 

They went into the dorms and selected a room at random, Max’s room. When they were both sat on her bed, Max opened up her phone she saw three unread messages, all from Courtney:

‘I’m so sorry I’m coming as fast as I can’, then

‘this is all so fucked up im sorry’, then finally

‘Are you still alive, Max?’

Victoria read these over Max’s shoulder but didn’t comment. Max hastily typed out a reply: ‘We’re both alive, courtney. Thank you so much. We’re both in my room right now. You need to come tell me everything.’

The reply came through almost a minute later: ‘oh thank god. Ill be there in 5mins . still driving tell vic im so sorry’. 

“She sounds sorry,” Victoria commented blandly. Max’s head was rested on her shoulder.

“Can you remind me what the deal is between you and Courtney?” Re-direct, re-direct, re-direct. Max just wanted to hear Victoria speak again, honestly. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, her hip was stinging from bumping it on the dumpster, but she didn’t mention it. It wasn’t important. 

Victoria paused. There was blood crusted in her hair that marked Max’s shirt but neither of them cared about that. That wasn’t important either. “She was neutral through the fight, but she started hanging with Gwen and Christopher more. Then those posters about us came out and she completely stopped talking to me. I don’t know if Nathan or Gwen said something, or if she’s homophobic, or what her problem was. But… I guess whatever it was, she doesn’t care now.”

“Near death experiences do have a way of bringing people together.”

“Hey, I never thanked you,” Victoria said suddenly, turning so Max had to lift her head. They made eye contact for the first time that day. Vic’s hazel eyes, warm and occupied, were a nice change to look at, and even at this time they gave Max butterflies in her stomach. “Seriously. You could have got shot. He would have shot you. He almost did. You didn’t have to do that.”

Max had to kiss her then, and she did, gently. Victoria didn’t pull away. Max pressed her forehead to hers, ran her fingers softly through the tall girl’s hair. Then she said, “Don’t be stupid.”

Victoria actually laughed at that, and to Max that sounded like the best noise in the world. “You always know the right thing to say.” 

Things weren’t okay and they both knew it. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t pretend. 

There was a knock on the door and the two drew away reluctantly. 

“Come in, Courtney,” Victoria called out.

Courtney had obviously been crying for a while, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face. Her black and purple hair had been pulled into a messy ponytail. She kept her hands up as if fending off a physical attack. 

“I’m, like, so fucking sorry,” she began with, starting to cry again, going straight for Victoria. “I’m sorry.” Victoria stood up and the two of them hugged, slightly awkwardly. “If I’d known they were that fucked up I would have never hung out with them. Like, seriously, I’m so sorry.”

“Who?” Max asked, knowing the answer already. Getting ready for the rush of icewater to flood her veins. 

Courtney pulled away and looked at Max directly. “Gwen and Christopher.”

Victoria looked confused, but Max just nodded gravely. She wasn’t surprised Victoria hadn’t heard what Nathan had said, but she sure as hell had.

Courtney nodded uneasily and continued. “I was at their house. I wasn’t supposed to be, but I was. Me and Christopher, we…” she trailed off at this, looked down at the ground. “Um, anyway. I heard them talking. About Nathan. About you too,” she added, glancing at Victoria. “And, um. They were the ones who told Nathan to do it. Kill you, I mean.” She was crying again. “They were saying they hoped he got it right this time. Since Max or anyone wouldn’t be there. Nobody to stop him, but a whole gym class to hear the gunshot. They must have had a school timetable or something. It sounded like they’d really planned it out.”

After what Nathan had said, Max shouldn’t have been surprised. But somehow she was. She felt nothing but a cold and empty dread filling her completely. “What did they mean, ‘get it right this time’?”

Victoria closed her eyes. “Max. That day Nathan came into school.” Her tone was dead. 

Max closed her eyes too, then hid her face in her hands. “Oh fuck.” She took a deep breath. “Oh god. Okay. Okay. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

Courtney shook her head fervently. “That’s all I heard, I swear.” She thought some more, not quite crying anymore. “Wait, no, like, Gwen said something else. I don’t know if it means anything.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘Then everything will be perfect for Saturday.’ I don’t know what that means.”

“Saturday.” Max frowned, concentrating. “What’s happening on Saturday?”

“There’s that protest on the beach,” Victoria muttered, eyes still closed. “But she has nothing to do with that. Dana’s organising it. It’s just a protest.”

Max tried to think of a magical solution. Max would figure out what Gwen and Christopher had planned for Saturday and she'd come up with some witty, brilliant, genius plan that would save the day and leave them all riding off into the sunset, with Gwen behind bars and Nathan getting proper psychological help and her and Victoria sipping virgin martinis on the beach. It would be talked about for centuries, this magical plan. It would be the kind that made its way into history books. The best plan of her generation. The plan to save them all. 

But when she tried to think, her mind grew as empty and lonely and lifeless as an arctic desert. 

And so, for the first time in that crazy week, terrified and feeling so in over her head she didn’t know where to begin, Max Caulfield simply held her head in her hands and sobbed. 

 

* * * * *

 

Gwen rang Max’s phone an hour later. Max was waiting for the call. They all were. 

“It’s okay,” Courtney had reassured her multiple times. “She didn’t know I was in the house. There’s no way she could know. She has no proof I heard anything or told you anything. Just, like, be yourself and see what she wants.” 

It was easier said than done, of course. Everything was. 

“Max? Oh my goodness, are you okay?” Gwen started talking before Max could so much as say hello. It was disconcerting to hear her sounding so agitated and know it was all an act. Gwen’s voice was choked up, full of concern, and she was almost yelling. It was a near-impeccable vocal performance. “I heard about what happened with Nathan. Are you hurt? Is Victoria hurt?”

“We’re okay, Gwen. A bit shaken up, but we’re okay. I got him to leave.” Max knew her voice was shaking, but maybe that was a good thing. 

“And thank god for that. I can’t imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there.” The slightest pause. Max could hear the disguised suspicion in her voice now, faint as a ghost in a hurricane. “How did you know she was in trouble?”

If Max’s time in high school had taught her anything at all, it was the power of bullshit. “Everything just felt… wrong. I don’t know how I knew. I can’t describe it any better than that. It was just a feeling. So I went to see, just in case. And…” She let herself trail off. 

Gwen exhaled. “I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea he was that unstable. I’m so sorry, Max. Did he give any indication as to why he’d…” she exhaled again, cursed under her breath. “I can hardly bring myself to say it. Why he’d… hurt Victoria?” 

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? 

“I don’t know, Gwen. I just don’t know.” Max closed her eyes, hoping with all her heart Gwen believed her. “Do you think he did it was because of that time Victoria hurt you?”

“I was worried about that.” There was a moment of silence on the phone, and Max held her breath without even realising. “I’ll tell you what. You and Victoria come to my house today. We can talk about everything that’s happened and decide where to go from there. How does twelve o’clock sound?” 

They were playing a game Max didn’t know the rules to. There was absolutely no way in hell she was going anywhere before she knew more about what Gwen was planning. “Um… I don’t really feel up to that right now, I’m sorry.” 

Gwen hesitated just a fragment of a second too long before replying. “Of course, of course, I’m sorry. We could meet up tomorrow instead.” It wasn’t much of a question. 

Would she be prepared to face Gwen tomorrow? She had no choice. Gwen was going to arrange this meeting one way or another, and trying to postpone it any further would look suspicious. “That sounds good, Gwen. I’ll see you then. Twelve o’clock?” 

“Twelve o’clock. And, hey, take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, you too. Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Max put the phone down and looked at Courtney and Victoria’s expectant faces. “We have one day to figure out what’s going on and what we’re going to do.”

She didn’t get a reply, but she hadn’t really been expecting one. Things had been eerily quiet between the three of them lately. Max was sitting on her bed, cross-legged, Victoria lying down with her head in Max’s lap and her eyes mostly closed. She’d cleaned up the wound on her head but there were still flecks of dried blood in her hair. Courtney sat on the couch, knees drawn up so she could hug them to her chest, occasionally sipping from a massive cup of coffee she’d made somewhere in that hour. 

“No pressure or anything,” Max added, lamely. 

“You handled that call well,” Victoria told her, still lying down. “Do you think she believed you?”

“She’s suspicious. She doesn’t have any proof of anything, but… we’re going to have to be really careful.” 

Courtney’s phone went off then, loudly. A text message. She read it and paled a bit, setting her mug on the floor. “This is bad.”

“What?” Max and Victoria asked in unison.

“Christopher texted me. He says, ‘Come here right now. You’re dead if you’re involved.’ Shit.” Courtney looked up, fear plastered on her face. “I have to go. Right now.” 

“Are you going to be safe?” Victoria asked.

“He has no proof I heard them. I just have to lie.” Courtney took a deep breath, picking her bag up and taking a big gulp of the last of her coffee. “I can lie. It’ll be okay. He wouldn’t hurt me.” 

“Does he… know anything Gwen doesn’t?” Max asked, remembering the way Courtney had glanced at her feet when she’d talked about him. The way she’d said his name. 

“I know how to get into the house without the cameras seeing me. Gwen doesn’t know about that. Christopher showed me.” The sentence hung in the air for a moment, both meanings behind what she was saying as clear as well polished glass. Then Courtney nodded grimly, stood up and left the room, the door clicking too loud behind her. 

Max waited for a while, then finally asked a question that had been nagging at her mind for a long time. “Vic? When did you try to strangle Gwen?”

Victoria snorted at the lack of tact. “Is it Thursday today?”

“I think so.”

“Today last week.” 

“Do you really think Gwen would be mad enough to… want you dead… because of that?” 

Victoria opened her eyes again. She was uncomfortable talking about it, Max knew, but they both knew it had to be discussed sooner or later. Max’s hand lingered on one side of Vic’s face. “I wouldn’t have thought so. But I also thought Nathan would never have wanted to murder me. So. I suppose there’s a lot I don’t know.” 

“Do you think Nathan… helped them plan it?”

“Ugh.” Victoria sounded mad and disgusted at the same time. She sat up, leaving Max’s lap pathetically cold, and moved so she was sitting directly in front of Max. “Did you see him? Nathan doesn’t know fantasy from reality. He didn’t know what he was doing. He probably couldn’t have told you his fucking name if you’d asked. Of course he didn’t help plan it.”

“I’m sorry,” Max mumbled. Victoria was furious, she knew that. She kept having these miniature outbursts, then calming herself down and getting worked up all over again. 

“I’m sorry too.” Victoria’s anger was gone like a fallen house of cards. “I just… I care about him so much. This is hard. I’m so fucking mad.” She looked away, blinking hard, one hazel eye liquified in a ray of sunshine from the window. Her hands reached out and encompassed Max’s. “It doesn’t add up. Something isn’t right. Gwen pretended she loved him, and she used him, and she broke him down into this shipwreck of a human being. All to get him to kill me? For something that happened after they’d already been dating? Something I don’t even fucking remember doing?” 

She turned back to Max, biting her lip hard. “None of this adds up. Max, I need to know what happened that night I tried to strangle her. The full story. What really happened.”

Max nodded. “Who do we talk to? Someone has to have seen something. Has anyone been acting weird in the past week or so?” She thought a while more, and then it hit her. Judging from the widening in Victoria’s eyes it had hit her too. They said the name in unison: 

“Alyssa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reminder that you guys are awesome for sticking with this story and giving all the kudos and comments that you have! It's officially reached 100 pages on the google doc I'm writing it on (okay, 101 technically), which is absolutely massive for me and is more than I've ever written for anything in my life. I actually started writing it because my grandma was dying and I wanted an escape, and it's grown into something way bigger than that and pretty much got me into writing again. So thanks for reading this ridiculous, outrageous, at times badly written, plot-held-together-with-duct-tape gay ass story, it means a lot. I promise this is all leading up to an epic finale you won't be disappointed with! Enjoy the rest of your day!


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